Lights
by asyadreamer09
Summary: Sex shop by day, strip club by night. Kuroko Tetsuya runs the wildest and most popular place of the night, made for money to be spent, drinks drunk, and secrets made and lost in the dark. AkaKuro.
1. Chapter 1

**Just something I did for fun. It was kind of inspired by the Pet Shop by Little Storm and The Body Shoppe by Robovocation, both from Kuroshitsuji - amazing stories. Anyway - if you want more, review. It might have more chapters if I decide. Warning - Not edited. Rating could be changed later.**

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Nighttime is the time of street life. Time of escapades and body casts and some questionable drugs stuck in some questionable places. This all, Kuroko Tetsuya knew when he flipped through his book lazily, bored out of his mind. That's right. Kuroko Tetsuya worked at a place that was a sex shop until about two am – then changed into a strip joint, where getting high was just the ticket in and getting drunk the way to stay. And Kuroko Tetsuya was bored out of his effing mind.

"Hey. Tetsu-kun! Tetsu-kun!" the altogether adorable but sometimes irritating voice almost blended in with the music that blared around them. Red strobe and pink strobe lights danced through the hot air. Bodies pressed up against each other and hands groped near, but never touching, the flesh dancing around the poles, high enough that almost everything could be seen.

Currently, a couple of girls were on shift, but most of the attention was on the dark skinned beauty, sweat glistening off his skin like jewels. Aomine-kun had always been an ace for prime time in the night.

Kuroko though, had his legs up at the desk, stamping people lazily, a flashlight strapped onto his as he read _Jane Eyre_ once more, the English copy in tatters from the amount of times it had been flipped open. He was dressed in a way enough to turn any person into the dumb beast they were on the inside, panting in the heat of day.

A threadbare tanktop clung to his skin, covered by a loose shirt. Skin tight jeans were ripped, exposing more skin than it covered. Holes wider than his hand let the blue disco lights burn on his pale skin, making out the delicious, lean curves of the young adult. His yankable hair stayed tightly to his forehead as the flashlight strap held in the light in place. Despite the music, the smoky air, and the excellent whiskey that he held in one hand, the emotionless expression didn't change. He flipped the page of the book.

"Mm?"

"Hand me the keys to the VIP rooms! Midorima-kun says that you have them!"

"What for?" the music blared loud enough that Momoi was screaming to get heard, but the bluenette's voice barely rose, crystal clear to Momoi. She leaned forward, her breasts swelling through her exposed shirt.

"What else?! A VIP is here! Extremely important, if what Kotaro says about him! Midorima agrees!" Kuroko's blank eyes looked up from his book.

"Really?"

"Tetsu-kun!" Momoi moaned, slamming her hand onto the counter. "The keys!" Kuroko sighed in annoyance. His legs swung off the table, and Momoi couldn't help but gaze at the smooth curve of those legs before they disappeared from sight.

Kuroko stretched his arms above his head, getting the blood flowing after so much time laying in that chair. He handed the stamping pad over to Takao, who was bouncing the place for them. The Hawk Eye that could see everything was mighty useful at sniffing out who was just wasted enough to throw up, and they were duly thrown out so they wouldn't have to clean it up later.

Momoi had a hard time with the drooling as the see through fabric of his white shirt raised, an inch of smooth skin glistening before the tank covered it up once more.

"Lead me to him then."

Momoi nodded and hurried past the crowds, the boy following after. When he didn't want to be seen, he wasn't. It was better this way – less people groping or gawking as the teen passed, and made his job a whole lot easier.

Momoi stopped in front of a curtain. The leather corset's straps that ran around her neck pressed hard on skin as she breathed. "He's through here – I'm sure Kise has already gotten him something to drink for the time being."

"Give me a number on him."

"Ten."

Kuroko stared at the full-timer. Her pink eyes stared right back into his, devoid of silliness that plagued them normally. "I see." He nodded. "I'll see to it, thanks."

Quick as a flash, she was gone, disappearing into the sea of light and booze. Kuroko shut his eyes, taking a breath before flipping open the curtain.

The parted curtains were for those who wanted privacy – either for their own business dealings, entertainment, or simply so they didn't have touch what they considered the 'dregs'. Indeed, the blue headed boy never knew why they were called that, but the name had stuck. Mostly, closed off rooms were for the rich and secretive, needing the privacy that only hundreds of people could offer them.

It was deathly silent through the thick velvet, the records muffled in the lightly cigar scented room. Kise handed the man sitting on the curved booth another scotch, grinning all the while. Kuroko took a glance at the customer, before knowing automatically that Momoi had been right.

From the ten thousand dollar suit to the thin silver band on his right hand, power radiated from his person like a leopard in the dark. Scarlet hair crowned his head like fire. The color in his singular gold eye glistened.

Kuroko walked up to him. "Sir. You required an empty VIP room?"

The red heard eyes scanned the boy once before the ghost of smirks graced his face. "I did."

"This way then, sir. Should I be expecting anyone else to be joining you this evening?"

The cool voice seemed amused, but Kuroko could sense the deceit laced in his voice. "Yes…two men, who should know my name. We felt like some entertainment."

Kise was silent, waiting to clean up as Kuroko opened the curtain, pitched noise blaring into the air once more. They walked deeper into the club, away from the dancfloor. Light bulbs and elegant blue walls paved the way, crystal ornaments decorating the walls, mirrors throwing the sparse bits of white light into the darkness ahead.

They came to a carpeted area; polished wood doors graced three dividing hallways, each having a single room at the end. The giant chandelier hung magnificently at the center.

Kuroko opened the door to the first room. A rich black leather couch stretched across the wall furthest. A full stocked bar cart gleamed ready to be used. The rest of the room had spread chairs and lounges. A call button hung on the wall.

"Shall I call someone up to entertain you?" The bluenette turned his head in the mogul's direction. At the same time, a slender hand brushed across his thigh and ran up, caressing a tight ass cheek. "Might I ask if you are available?" the voice whispered, breath blowing just slightly past his ear.

Suddenly, the hand was gone, now grasping nothing. With a smooth nod and vacant expression Kuroko gazed straight into the interested eyes of his client. Easily, he replied, "Sorry. I'm not on duty tonight."

"Ah. My apologies. Maybe next time."

Kuroko did not give the smirking man a second glance. "I will send someone up to your liking - ?"

"Akashi. Akashi Seijuuro."

"Akashi-san. I promise it will they will be to your liking."

The penetrating gaze did not leave the delicious body before him as Kuroko walked back down the hall. "Please make yourself comfortable." Akashi Seijuuro permitted himself a slight grin of amusement as the teen turned down the hall once more.

"I will try to."


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, you guys liked this! Thank you for the reviews, and as you wish, here is the next chapter. Some may see this bumped up to M rating - I just got a little worried about the references here. I'm not sure how often this will be updated, but I will try the best I can. There's lots that I think will happen before _that_ occurs between Akashi and Kuroko. As always, review if you want more. :) Note: Not EXACTLY edited...sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroko no Basuke... if not... *evil grin***

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Five people hovered over the figure, their eyes wide. None of them dared breathe too much – if they were too loud, they could ruin everything. The opportunity to watch so closely was rare enough that everyone dropped everything they were doing so they could simply stare.

Likely, it was because of the lack of air that they were beginning to get some indecent delusions. Kise broke the silence first – except for the crunching of potato chips, which had been there from the beginning.

"He's so…cute." The cold face of the head manager, Kuroko Tetsuya had fallen, leaving the soft and vulnerable expression of his counterpart, a boy so delectably soft that the four men and one girl were beginning to grow antsy, their eyes glowing with an ominous light. Aomine stretched, opening and clenching his fist slightly, his senses tingling.

"Damn. Damn it," Aomine gritted his teeth. His face looked desperate enough.

That same aching hand snapped up, grabbing the giant wrist that had reached toward the sleeping boss. "Wha-?" Murasakibara said through a full mouth. "I want to feel Kuro-chin's hair. It looks soft."

"Are you crazy? Don't wake him!" Aomine yelled as loudly as the whisper would carry. The most dangerous one of this perverted group was likely the one that looked most innocent. Momoi's smile had become silly, her body drawing closer to the boy, who turned slightly on the leather couch.

The material rubbed and groaned with sound. The tight denim ran up Kuroko's legs, clinging more onto every delicious curve, leaving less to the imagination, and more to the fantasies building in the strippers' minds. Kise reached out a hand, once more, wanting to just have a single finger stroke that unblemished cheek.

A cry rang out a moment later as Kise yelled, gripping his throbbing wrist, tears in his eyes. The rest fell back suddenly as the eyes stared back at them emotionlessly, hazy with the remnants of sleep. By reflex, Kuroko's hand had snapped, hitting Kise's bone with his own, a simple defense maneuver even the weakest person could execute. What was frightening wasn't simply the action. The teen stood up, rubbing a hand through his psychotic bedhead. But laughing was not an option. Hair such as that just made him look like blue fire, the proof of Satan's child down to punish.

"Don't touch me again, Kise-kun…" Kuroko's mumbled words were. He rubbed his eyes before regarding the five gods of sex hardly.

"S-sorry, Kurokocchi…"

Kuroko turned to Midorima. "Where's Kotaro?"

"He's already overseeing the cleaning with the workers." Nodding, the bluenette replied, "That's good. Aomine-kun, if you'd start with the money count, Momoi can start on the books and Murasakibara-kun, why are you here so early? The shop won't be open for hours."

"Ah, Midorima said there were some new products he wanted me to look over before." The giant lazily stuck in a lollipop in his mouth, making the sentence rounded and almost incomprehensible.

Kuroko started the walk to the office. "That's good. What's the time?"

"Around 8:45." He pressed his lips together, seeing the light stream in from the large glass panels at the top of the club. The dance floor was empty, strewn with trash, pieces of clothing and cigarette butts, although smoking was only permitted to the designated areas. There was not much that could be helped – rules would not be followed after more than four shots.

"Ah."

The colored heads split up, going back to work. Midorima followed Kuroko into the back. "Kuroko-kun, you should go home. It's already late, and we can handle everything back here."

"I will. Just need to get some things finished." He sat in his rolling chair, digging through a pile of audits. Midorima adjusted his glasses. "Are you alright? You rarely fall asleep in the club."

"I haven't been sleeping as well as I usually do, but I'll take a couple of pills before bed." This concerned Midorima. He made a slight frown. "You don't want this to be the starts of insomnia. That's what happens when you sleep through the day and stay up at night. Your circadian clock just goes crazy." Kuroko rubbed his eyes. "As does every person that works here at night. I'm not the only one."

"No one works seven days a week like you do. You need to take a day to rest and recover. I don't know how you stand the lights and music without rest for so long. You could develop a condition with how much you stay here."

"And yet, nothing of the kind has ever happened." The twenty year old looked up at Midorima. "Relax. I take care of myself, promise. You're very protective today." Midorima looked away, his skin just slightly colored.

"If you injure yourself, then Kotaro will become the one running this place. God knows what would happen if that occurred." The emotionless boy's eyes glinted with slight amusement. "God forbid that the two of you get along for even a second. Do I smell the achings of love coming along?"

"Kuroko-kun!"

"I said nothing. After all, what would Takao say…"

"Wha-?!"

"What would I say?" The cheerful blackette popped his head in. Kuroko waved absentmindedly, getting a pint of cold milk from the fridge behind him. "Nothing. You going home?"

"Found a couple stoned and unconscious in the back of the women's restroom, but yep. I'm done now."

"Thanks for the hard work." Takao turned to Midorima with a wide grin, which Midorima returned with a frantic gaze of his own. "Hey Shin-chan!"

Midorima grunted. He wondered why the male had to be so casual – especially if it was in front of Kuroko. Thoughts drifted of how only minutes before he was taking part in staring at the manager– this must be Kuroko's way of getting back at him for that.

"Hello, Takao."

Kuroko walked past both of them, a bundle of files tucked into his computer bag. "Bye guys…see you tonight."

"Bye, Kuroko-kun."

"Good bye, Kuroko-kun."

* * *

The colors of the night made everyone blind. There is almost nothing you can see. Darkness was destroyed in flashes. Rough sensations groped and left you delirious. The smoke that pumped through the room made it hard to breathe – all the better, because it meant less excuses to make good decisions.

The grinding, the flesh, the sweat – bored Kuroko. He picked up his heavy glass, eyes slightly glazed. The male was at the bar, leaning against the wall. A leg propped up on his stool. The boy looked damn sexy. Black was the name of the game. A thin leather collar, studded with tiny gold basketballs hung around his neck. A loose sweater of the same ebony draped over him, buttoned all the way to the top so only a bit of milky skin was visible below his neck. The white light reflected off him ethereally, untouchable, unreachable.

His eyes watched over the scene in front of him. Colors of gold and cobalt danced with each other as Kise and Aomine danced only feet from him. Kise knew what the ladies liked. He was not ashamed of acting the part, and in that way danced unreservedly, crudely, his smile always between a smirk and a shy grin.

Aomine was the wild type, active in every way. Sweat would drip and glisten, over the tattoo that glazed from his neck down to his back. The dark skin was attractive and exotic, something that the conservative Japanese would never mention aloud entranced them.

The red headed man stepped into the club without making a sound. It only took a moment for his eyes to scan that club before locking onto the boy, glowing stark in white light. He took another look and he locked on potential. A green head that he had talked to a few days ago was now climbing onto the stage as the yellow and blue headed males disappeared into the back.

Akashi bought a scotch quickly before those roaming blue eyes could catch him and dived back into the darkness, towards the strippers who were now speaking, drinking water and cooling themselves off. "Excuse me."

The three of them looked at him before their eyes widened. "Akashi-san...?" the ganguro turned to Momoi to be sure of the name. The girl nodded once. She was dressed in a silk black robe, cherry blossoms decorating the fabric. From the looks, it had been expensive and foreign.

"Sorry to bother all of you. I want to thank you for the excellent time last night."

Momoi smiled winningly at him. "Well, you shouldn't thank us for that but Tainaka-kun and Kuroko-kun for that. I hope that you and your friends enjoyed yourselves?"

"Absolutely, Tainaka truly satisfied my business associates. A skillful dancer all around." Momoi nodded once more. "Well then, I'm glad. Please enjoy yourself as much as you'd like – are you here alone tonight?"

Akashi worse a dark collared shirt, rolled at the sleeves, a grey pinstripe vest and scarlet tie. It was casual, yet deliciously alluring. Momoi blinked, forcing her eyes back up to his face.

The man smirked. "Yes. Actually, I'm wondering about the young man I met yesterday – light blue hair that helped me to my room – I … believe that's him." He feigned a frown as he pointed once more at Kuroko, who was now on his second glass. The chestnut colored liquid swirled gently as he shut his eyes for a moment to rest them from the lights.

Momoi followed the finger. "Ah – Kuroko-kun! Yes, sir, that is the GM of the place. He's very capable, isn't he?"

"He is rather young to be the manager? He doesn't look more than eighteen."

"He is twenty sir – most have the same thoughts. He looks much younger than he is. But yes, he flew through the ranks – as well as he knows the owner of the place personally."

Akashi nodded, sipping his drink. His eyes stayed on the beauty, as if waiting for Kuroko to realize the intrusion. Momoi yelled, "Is something wrong?"

"No. No… I was just wondering whether he ever danced. He…made an impression on me last time I was here."

A rude guffaw broke through the conversation. They both turned to Aomine, who was grinning from ear to ear. "You're not the only one, Akashi-san, to think that. He makes an impression on almost everyone he comes into contact with, whether he means to or not. Very straight and boorish men have switched sides after a single conversation from him, and it wasn't any special convo either."

"So, he does work on the front lines as well?"

Aomine shook his head. "No. I wish. We all do – Tetsu is different than us. He doesn't dance, he doesn't give any service unless he feels like it."

The red head beside him grunted. "And he never does."

"That's a shame. It is a waste that he doesn't work."

"You're not the only one who feels that way. Hundreds – at least, what we've kept count – _hundreds_ have tried to get him on stage – ever since he began working here, we've had petitions with at least a thousand names to list him as a stripper. He refuses."

"I suppose that he is shy."

Aomine's laugh boomed, shaking up Momoi thoroughly. "That's what one would think –" he turned to Kagami, who had suddenly begun to look uncomfortable.

"Tell him, Kagami."

The bulky delivery man grimaced – he just came here to ship the next stocks in the back and had decided to stay for a drink – now this was happening.

"Shut it, Ahomine." The tanned stripper punched his arm. "We don't have all night! Tell him about how Tetsu gave you a lap dance!"

Akashi's eyebrows rose in interest.

Kagami pressed his lips together, thoroughly uncomfortable. "I'm a delivery man here – I ship in a lot – toys, new equipment, the works … A few months after I started here, me and Tetsu had become really good friends. We started talk one day during a run and I told him about how I hadn't been getting any lately because of work, and it was getting pretty pent up. You know." Kagami looked at Akashi with a shrug and Akashi nodded.

"Understandable."

He bobbed his head. "Yeah. So, then Kuroko got really quiet for the rest of the time. After I was done, he told me to come with him for minute. I didn't know what it was, but Kuroko is always reasonable and a good guy, so I followed. We went into one of the curtained rooms, and he put on some music – told me to sit down. Then – he…" Kagami's voice drifted off, getting smaller and smaller as he spoke.

"AHAHA! Look! You're starting to get a boner just from thinking about it!" Kagami slammed his fist on the table. "Get a hold of yourself, asshole Ahomine, you're the perv for even looking there! That's why I didn't want to tell this story in the first place!"

Aomine smirked. "How can I not when you have that face? And after, you had completely switched, right?"

Kagami rubbed his hands through his hair over and over, looking down now. "He did more bad than good with his good intentions. Now every time I start it off with a girl, it keeps popping back into my head! I can't get off good enough until I think of him! It's messed up!"

Momoi patted his back comfortingly.

Akashi sympathized as well. It sounded like a terrible place to be in. "That's terrible. And you can still speak to him after that?"

Groaning, he mumbled in his hands, "Well, it's alright. He hasn't talked about it since and he's not exactly awkward about it. Although, it's harder for me than it is for him."

Aomine's laugh was now booming, making Momoi smack him in the face. "Shut up already, you're being a dick!"

"Aw, geez, Satsuki, now so hard…"

Momoi sniffed and turned back to Akashi apologetically. "Sorry, but he's probably not going to be available, long story short."

"And what about personally? He does swing that way, doesn't he?"

Momoi frowned. "We…" she turned to the rest who gave the same questionable shrugs and nods. "We _think_ he is. Thing is…Tetsu-kun is – cold. We've never actually seen him attracted to anyone."

Kagami and Aomine shook their heads in agreement. "Girl or boy – hot ones have tried. Not even here – just normally as well. And a lot of … really demeaning plays too, questionable situations." Kagami smiled at those. "Man, the stories… they're both more and less awkward because Kuroko is so emotionless…"

"Anyway, nothing. He just brushes them off with a polite rejection," Momoi ended. She pointed at the two beside her. "Them two can be added to the list, as well as every stripper here so far."

The two of them glared at her. "It's an obvious misunderstanding when someone gives you a lap dance that it might mean more!"

"Dude, when did a lap dance ever mean 'more'?" his neighbor scoffed.

"Shut UP!"

Akashi and Momoi ignored the bickering between the muscular giants. "Maybe it's because you work together?" he suggested reasonably. Momoi shook her head. "It wouldn't be it – there have been enough people who he would never see again to ask."

"Dicks ache and vaginas drip, but Tetsu never even gets hard. Maybe he's…what's that word? When you're not attracted to any gender?"

"Stupid as usual," Kagami muttered in to his glass.

And the arguing continued as Momoi and Akashi discussed. Momoi smiled. "You're welcome to try, Akashi-san, but please don't get your hopes up too much."

Akashi turned to the bar. Kuroko had left. "I'll be careful."

* * *

Kuroko sauntered back about an hour later, bartender sliding him his third glass of the night. "You doing alright?"

The adult – almost teen – nodded vaguely. "Just caught up on some more paperwork."

She chuckled. "Don't work yourself too hard. We can't have the boss collapsing on us."

"Don't worry, I won't," Kuroko murmured. The songs had switched slower now that the heat of the night was over and more people were hung over. Bodies clung to each other like monkeys and leeches, holding onto heat without reservation. Takao maneuvered deftly, accompanied by his comrades, now doing the routine check-out and throw-out. Once the fight started (there is usually always a fight) the night was considered done.

It was then when Kuroko caught the flaming red out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see Akashi there, a slight smirk dancing on his face. "Good night?"

Kuroko sipped. "It's not bad. How are you, Akashi-san? It's nice to see you again so soon."

"I'm well. The stock was excellent last time, and now again as well as the company." Kuroko met his eyes evenly. "I'm glad. Is there something you need help with?"

It amused Akashi that after their last encounter and the long hours of head splitting music, the professionalism that radiated from the boy had not faltered. But likely, he's had worse encounters that needed such behavior.

"What is it you're drinking?"

Kuroko didn't bat an eye as he replied. "Apple rum."

"Apple?" he wondered.

"To each their own." The mogul smiled graciously. "Of course. I was just curious."

As Akashi ordered something strong, the bluenette went back to scanning the dance floor and also eyeing the doors on the upstairs balcony, as if he could look straight through the dark glass and into whatever those who paid were doing. He seemed to no longer notice the heterochromatic eyes staring at him.

"I have another question, Kuroko-san."

"Oh?"

"You are very difficult to impress." Kuroko paused, looking back at those glimmering eyes. "I do not see the question."

"The question is I'd like to know why."

"Mm." Kuroko took another sip. "If you are impressed with anything that walks towards you, you do not have much taste or respect for yourself."

"Touché, that makes sense. But isn't there the idea that you love someone simply because they love you back?"

"Were we talking about love?" Kuroko asked.

"There are many kinds of love in the world, not all romantic."

"If that is the case, then do you respect a foolish man just because they respect you? Is not respect to be earned?"

Akashi titled his head to acquiesce. "Well, in a way, they admire you because they want to be like you."

"You can admire someone but think they are foolish – as well as respect someone but not want to be them."

"I doubt that. You might not want to be them, but you like their character." Akashi kept his steady gaze on the pale boy. "You cannot admire something if you don't see the positive. There is something that is good about them."

Kuroko stated flatly, "Fine. Even so, just because they like something about you doesn't mean anything. Dreaming without doing doesn't get one anywhere. If they want to be impressive, then they should do something worth respecting."

"Exactly my thoughts." Then Akashi closed the space between them suddenly, pressing his hand to Kuroko's back, and went to press their lips together.

Instead, he tasted the sweet flavor of vanilla, tangy and smooth as they met contact with skin. Kuroko ran his hands over Akashi's chest, fingering every curve before the digits curled itself around the silk tie and jerked it down. The red head stumbled, the world spinning until he caught himself. In the movement, he had rotated, creating more space between them to remain standing.

Kuroko's piercing wide eyes tore through Akashi. "There is more than money and wordplay to be impressive, Akashi-san. I hope you know that."

Akashi smirked, the gesture a permanent habit that he now appreciated the most, those eyes still boring through him. "If there was only time to show all those qualities to you." He took another step forward. Kuroko kept hold onto Akashi's tie. "Will I be able to have the opportunity?"

"Depends." The voice did not change in volume. But the gaze grew intense.

"On?" Akashi placed a hand on either side of the bar, trapping the boy. His words trailed deadly.

The words were simple. "On what qualities you possess."

He took a breath, lifting his left hand up to Kuroko's neck. The digits trailed the white skin, burning under the bar light. He let out a tickling breath. Perfect. That's what Akashi first thought when he ran his other hand up Kuroko's torso, over the rough fabric of his sweater. The slender form under him was muscular and curved, yet soft. It didn't make sense to feel a body so tight. Deliciously hot.

"Damn," he whispered, falling closer to Kuroko's neck, the air brushing across his nape as he passed.

He wanted to feel more. Do more. Know what was there, hidden underneath what was already too revealing clothes, yet suddenly too much between them.

As he was just about to touch his lips to his neck and taste that sweet flavor once more, a gentle laugh escaped through the god's lips.

Akashi froze and looked up, slightly confused. Those cool eyes burned him again as he slowly pushed him back, hitting him against the wall. "Qualities…" the voice whispered.

Slender digits felt around his torso. Akashi sucked in a silent breath. "That are questionable at best," Kuroko murmured in his ear. The fingers danced like they were everywhere, nowhere – barest grazes made his body flush with heat, the cool touch relieving him from the warmth. Kuroko's eyes kept the mogul's gaze, forbidding him to watch the delicate caresses.

There was something else laid in the voice when it spoke once more. "Or are they?"

The contact was gone. Kuroko walked over to his drink and downed the rest in a gulp. Then, Akashi stared as the boy took his whiskey; liquid passed the soft, pink entrance. He licked his lips gently, taking every last drop. Adam's apple bobbed as it swallowed. Milky skin glistened. Without turning back, Kuroko sighed and disappeared through the crowd.

Moments passed. A slow smile spread across Akashi's face as he pulled off the wall. He brought the drunken glass to his lips, tasting the remnants the boy had left behind. It had been – with more surprises than he had anticipated – a success.

The strippers gaped in silence at the scene before hurrying off, needing to tell everyone and anyone they could. Kuroko Tetsuya had accepted a challenger.


	3. Chapter 3

**Greetings, my wonderful readers. ^_^ Thank you for all the reviews - I love them all so much.**

**If you want a theme song for this fanfic - this is it. Search up " **Wʜᴏ Oᴡɴs Mʏ Hᴇᴀʀᴛ? MEP || Tʜᴀɴᴋs ғᴏʀ 1,000+" by YaoiRevolutionStudio. **This is the song that created this story - and it's great for reading! Enjoy the chapter!**

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Brilliant orange flooded the sky. Hundreds of window adorned skyscrapers like mirrors threw back the colors, each dimming by the second. The light escaped – barely tangible and in a moment – forgotten. Reason and warmth disappeared with them and the growing urge rose, bringing a smile to his lips.

In an exclusive part of town, the boorish business factory lights shut down, and the long awaited neon charged up. The shimmering poles warmed. The beat pulsed and glass shifted as the bar was once again stocked. The empty dance floor was the only lament, left in a pitiful need for bodies. It was Saturday night, and the relief that only selfless abandon would bring was the only craving everyone in Tokyo desired.

Darkness fell. The doors opened. The people lined up for blocks. _Lights_ opened.

Thin chains clanged as they collided with each other, hanging from his shirt on both sides, looping under each arm, glinting on the black cardigan and tank top underneath. His denim hung low on his hips, every once in a while showing skin as they swayed.

The thin hand that belonged to the delicious body grabbed his wrist tightly. Hyuuga turned to see the tight lipped simper of Kuroko Tetsuya, his blue hair blazing in the white lights, before the spotlight moved, the figure fading into the darkness.

"It would be better to just have a drink instead of taking such boring pictures, would it not, Hyuuga?" Those cold eyes bore into the older man as the handheld disappeared into his pocket. The tall man's smile was constricted in kind. "Yes…Kuroko."

The teen let go. "Well then. Enjoy your time tonight." The two men's eyes locked on for a tense moment before the boy glided past. Hyuuga's hand tightened on his phone. He disappeared into the crowd without another glance.

The tiny frame slipped towards the exit. He flung open the door, the silence and cold colliding into him from the chaos. Kuroko shifted beside Takao. An observant few caught sight of the boy in front of them. All of them gladly began to strip him with their eyes. Kuroko leaned towards the bouncer. "Who let Hyuuga get in here?" he murmured into the Hawk's ear.

Quietly, the man replied, "There was no reason that we shouldn't – and besides, everyone is on duty today, even Atsushi. He would be crazy to think he could get away with it when you're here." Kuroko made a small hum. "Apparently he was."

Takao shook his head in disbelief. "Should I have someone kick him out?" Kuroko shook his head. "Already gone by now. Let me know if anyone important comes along next time. Don't let them in without my go ahead."

A brief nod followed and the man disappeared, taking along the gazes of now more than half the waiting line with him.

* * *

Momoi came towards him, her body slick with sweat, finished with her time on set. She would go on once more nearer to the end of the night. The leather clad figure was barely clad, a pair of underwear that laced tightly behind like a corset and polished straps pushing up the flesh of her chest. Black lace tights ran up her thighs, just enough to leave wondering. Her arms wrapped over Kuroko's shoulders, spooning him.

"Momoi-san – this is a clean shirt."

She laughed, hopping in front of him, her breasts practically jumping out of their caves. "You should relax a bit more. Things are going to go just fine."

"Saturday night, things can always go wrong."

Momoi sighed, preening on an upraised counter. A leg propped up wide on the ledge which showed more than naturally decent. "You say that every night, Tetsu-kun."

"Even more so on Saturdays." His eyes scanned the growing crowd. The night was still young, the music not yet heated, so he didn't worry. Momoi's eyes softened. "You should take more trust in us; we can handle things for a night. You need to relax." She started to massage the boy's shoulders as he gazed distractedly.

"Of course I do…" Out of his periphery, Kotaro advanced and draped an arm suddenly over the small boy's shoulders, shoving off Momoi's helpful hand. She tsked in annoyance. "Do what?" he asked curiously.

"Trust us," Momoi said icily, eyeing the manager with irritation. Kotaro laughed. "Kuroko trusting us? No way." He ruffled that damnably soft hair, a thick lock falling near his eyes. "The day that he leaves us alone to man the club is the day that the laws of the world begin to shatter."

Kuroko eyed the dancer on stage critically. The green head was slow and tense, every move suggestive and undulating. Every pulse of his groin that made the crowd hiss, wetness and cum could almost be smelled in the air. He was having a good day, the general manager thought.

"Next time, be more careful, Kotaro-kun. Hyuuga was here just now trying to get data on our alcohol inventory." The blonde's eyes grew dark. "On a Saturday?"

"Probably thought the crowd would cover him." Momoi sneered. "Why did they send Hyuuga? It would've been better to send their little eagle."

"Exactly," he murmured. "That means more of them are here. Be on the watch." Kotaro nodded and Momoi stiffened, the calculating eyes of their marketing strategist growing stronger. "Of course, Tetsu-kun."

"Then, if you'll excuse me," Kuroko shifted from Kotaro's weight towards the bar. "Four inch Jack Daniels."

The bartender smiled at him. A light gloss glazed her pink lips. "A hard night?" Shaking his head, he took the drink. "I just need something strong." His eyes watered and sharpened as he downed half in a gulp.

It wasn't that he hated the loud atmosphere or anything – as with all things, simply the bright lights and music was tedious after a while. It wasn't just that, but the constant advances. At a club, the number of eyes that scrounged for possible dates were high and his misdirection weakened. Although, if he had to admit it to himself, his misdirection was getting weaker as he grew older. As he wrestled with this problem, acouple of women, foreign from the looks of it, approached him. They were beautiful – with classy dresses and delicately put make up, framing their faces well and cleanly.

"Mind if we sit here?" Their voluminous hair lighted onto halos around the two of them. It wasn't a doubt, they were stunning, and not of the regular breed.

Kuroko shrugged.

The women also knew high class when they saw it. The bluenette's aloof expression, lazy form, eyes shaded by rich locks of blue. They were not ones to throw themselves at any man good enough to get hard.

"Can I buy you your next drink?"

Kuroko pressed his lips together, taking in the last of the brown liquid. "That's very kind, but I'm not interested, thank you."

"Don't say that – we've barely gotten to speak." A graceful smile fell on his face as he gazed back at the pleasant companions. "We don't need to talk tonight – two beautiful ladies like yourselves, please, have a good time. I am actually working right now; this is my club I manage."

The two ladies' eyes widened, but they did not give up just yet. A piece like this would be hard to find for a while. "Are you sure you can't leave just for a dance?"

Shaking his head, he stood straight. "Kisa-chan, get these ladies whatever they like and put it on my tab." A delicate kiss was pressed on both hands before he turned away, taking his second glass with him. Today, he just wasn't in the mood. He walked to his office. There was work that needed to be done anyway.

He was a few feet from his door when a hand grabbed him in the quiet corridor. "Kurokocchi, there's someone here," Kise panted. It was hard enough to find the short boy in daylight, even worse through the throng of dancers.

"Another one from _Shades_? If it is, just tell them to leave, we already caught their first spy for the night –" Kise cut him off quickly.

"It's not. It's Akashi-san. Takao said that he let him in and you were to be notified." The stripper's eyes were wide as he waited for the bluenette's reaction.

Kuroko stared back at Kise. The man that reminded him of fire and gold flashed in his mind. His heart thumped loudly once, his thoughts of sleep clearing. The lights had never been brighter. Slowly, Kuroko pulled away from Kise. "Tell him I got it. Thanks."

Kise looked at him uncertainly, not knowing in the darkness what ran through his head. "Alright… I'll tell him." He patted the shorter boy's shoulder and walked back.

Kuroko shifted. Well. It wouldn't hurt to just go out there for a little while longer.

* * *

Spotted. Akashi Seijuuro moved closer to the booth, eyeing the drink in front of his prey. Long Island Iced Tea. Was he playing with him?

With a swift motion, he slipped into the seat beside the bluenette. All eyes were plastered on him, wide as saucers, except the ones he wanted to see the most. Those stared at his drink. His pale fingers played with the straw.

"Nice seeing everyone again," he greeted everyone. The strippers all nodded dumbly, looking from the red head to the blue. The manager continued to avoid all contact with the red head.

After a taut moment, Akashi asked, "Momoi-san, how is your apartment search coming?" Shaking out of the stupor, she nodded slowly. Her eyes remained fixed on the unresponsive boy. "Well, a few have caught my eye, but they all have something wrong with them… the distance from work or a really loud neighbor…"

Akashi smiled. "Well, nothing is perfect, especially in this neighborhood. I'm sure you'll find something you like. If you want, I can always call my own real estate proprietor, and they can look into it for you."

"Th-thanks…"Kuroko lifted up his glass and the straw navigated to his delicate lips. The only thing that changed in his demeanor was how his lips tightened as Akashi's hand slid up and down his thigh, each time moving closer in. Kuroko placed the glass down and his left hand dropped underneath the table.

"Midorima, what is your lucky item for today?" Kuroko asked straightforwardly.

Underneath, Kuroko grabbed the hand that had now been lightly tracing the insides of his thighs, running upwards the peak between the two. His fingers tightened, nails digging into the palm of the hand. Violently, the hand flipped, much to Akashi's pleasure. The fingers worked into the palm, tickling, pushing, pinching. Each movement making a warning that Akashi could only hope would come true.

"A bottlecap from a branded label that only exists in Kyoto…I had it sent over as soon as I heard…"

"Che – Midorima, you're an idiot," Aomine grumbled.

The hand snapped, grabbing onto the teasing fingers. Firmly, Akashi slid Kuroko's fingers onto his own thigh. The deft digits danced over the pale skin in kisses like wings, slowly treating every inch of skin individually. Kuroko's arm flushed hot and cold from the touches. Akashi smirked.

"Ahaha… so, Akashi-kun, what do you do?" Momoi laughed hesitantly. Kuroko's right hand, still tracing over the moisture on his glass, tightened on its grip on the wooden table just slightly. Akashi gave an easy smile to Momoi. "Actually – I" And suddenly, their play ended as Kuroko grabbed his wrist and jerked as hard as he could.

Akashi's head jolted sideways, towards Kuroko's lap with blinding speed, under the table's edge. The group gaped as Akashi stretched his hand to groped for a surface and landed softly, in contact with something warm and hot. Kuroko's head snapped down towards Akashi, his eyes burning.

A slow grin slowly spread on the mogul's face as he looked up at the furious manager. The anger in Kuroko's flared. They stared at each other for long moments, unblinking, unreachable. Never breaking the contact, Akashi smiled winningly.

"Kuroko-kun. How about a dance?" The intensity of his gaze was the only reply as they both got up. Akashi let the stiff bluenette out of the booth before following. Neither looked back at the group, who were left with mouths dumb and gaping like fish.

The song had just turned up louder. The beat was reverberated through the air, shaking the limbs in each body as smoke shimmered in the air.

"You just couldn't keep your hands to yourself, could you," Kuroko seethed, almost inaudible. They slithered through the crowd, to the center of the dance floor. Hot bodies wrapped and pressed them like a cocoon. The world became smaller as heterochromatic eyes glinted mischievously.

"You were the one that pulled on me, are you sure you weren't wanting?"

A hand slid up the smooth fabric of Akashi's t-shirt. "You were being overconfident – it was time you got what you deserved." Fingers ran up his chest, pushing the looming figure away from him. The other thin arm wrapped around the businessman's neck.

"If that is what I deserve, then please, give me more," he chuckled. He didn't back down as Kuroko's emotionless glare increased. As Kuroko kept the distance between them tight, his own hands slid behind the boy, sliding a hand under the tight fabric of his jeans to cup the round swell of his ass once more.

"Not until you prove you deserve it." With no gentleness, Kuroko grabbed the hand and twisted it painfully. "Clothes only."

"That's no fun," Akashi whined, stretching his hand. There was a noncommittal shrug, as uncaring as the eyes that regarded him. "If that's already too hard, then you should just leave," he replied cruelly. "I was right. You're no different from anyone else here."

Kuroko's voice caught in his throat as he jolted forward, his arm tight in Akashi's grip. His world spun. Unbalanced, he fell forward, landing into the delicious heat of the man, who proceeded to run his hands over the former's torso. Soft lips pressed against the soft skin of the bluenette's neck. "That is something I cannot allow you to say," he murmured, the breath trailing from the patch of cooling saliva to his ear.

Kuroko bit his lip and pushed back roughly as Akashi's hands kept their hold on him. "Is that right?" Kuroko whispered, the barest strain edging into the words. He turned around, spooning the taller man. Small, delicate hands grabbed the larger ones that held him tightly.

"Then prove it."

Akashi sucked in a breath as the bluenette's behind slowly pushed into him, grinding long and deep. Kuroko's fingers moved his upwards like a puppet, letting him rough the fabric underneath his touch. It scrunched as they rolled higher, leaving an expanse of skin to touch the hot air. Each soft curve of the boy teased his senses. It drove Akashi mad.

Chains jangled as both wrists wound around the gold, entangling them forward. Akashi bucked smoothly into Kuroko's heat again, feeling the perfect shape around his own member.

Kuroko muttered, "Already hard? You're not at all impressive." The disgusted tone awoke Akashi as both hands grabbed him. Kuroko twisted around. After gazing into those stony eyes, he looked down.

His wrists were caught in the gold chains, connecting him to the boy, whose own hands were free as a bird. The manager must've done it when he turned, removing himself before the chains tightened. Akashi's arms now crossed each other, like a prisoner in shackles.

"You're grinding me, what do you expect?" Akashi questioned. Kuroko flicked his head, a couple of disheveled businessmen passing by them on their way to a curtained room upstairs.

"There are those who are impressed with the expectation. And then those that are impressed with the _work_." Kuroko pulled the chains, bringing Akashi only a hairbreadth away from Kuroko's lips. The cool breath tasted like sweet liquor. "And you seem to be the first. If that's the case, then anyone here will do."

Kuroko turned once more, loosening the chains. "You should find pleasure elsewhere."

The twenty year old took a step away when he lurched backwards, pulled by chains. The floor disappeared from underneath his feet and he fell, into the arms of the man with fire in his eyes, a smirk written on his face. He dipped him low, until their bodies almost touched the ground.

"You are quite the devil, aren't you, Kuroko-kun?"

Their eyes locked, and the barest shiver ran through Kuroko as he was suddenly righted once more. It wasn't that the gaze was predatory – which it was, in all intents and purposes – but the confidence and warmth that glowed underneath made him wonder if he had underestimated this man.

The song changed. Their gazes were hypnotic; their hands rose to the sky in prayer. Kuroko clawed the material on Akashi's shoulder, stretching it taut. Akashi's hand ran through the boy's hair, its feeling as addicting as the feeling of the lithe body beneath the fabric. He grabbed at any part of the boy he could, pulling the male closer to him and rolled his tongue over his neck.

Kuroko gasped and his vision turned violently through the crowd – falling on a group of colored haired strippers, all holding camera phones and video camcorders. "St-stop." He pushed Akashi away from him for a brief moment. The scarlet and gold eyes blinked in question.

"Not here…" Kuroko eyed the group which was now scrambling to stow away their devices, noticing that their boss had caught them. He grabbed the taller man's hand. "Come with me." Slowly, they were pulled away, towards the familiar corridor that Akashi had once entered the first time he was here. Their breaths panted hard as the music quieted, keys jangling as Kuroko fumbled for the right one.

Akashi wrapped his hands around Kuroko's slim waist, continuing his ministrations from before. Kuroko took a controlled breath and pushed him away, shoving him into the now open room. "In here."

The door shut behind them.

* * *

Kuroko's mind was running at two hundred miles an hour as he shoved Akashi back into the four hundred count sheets before crawling above him.

Akashi's face was slackened as he gazed up. Brows rose barely in interest as excited eyes shot through the thin fabric of Kuroko's body, each piece slowly unraveling within the shimmering irises.

"You think you're any good?" Kuroko whispered. His hands slid up and down the man's torso.

The bluenette bent his head forward. The faint beat of the music echoed through the walls, silence magnifying the sounds of their faint breathing, clashing against one another. The air tickled across Akashi's neck as he let out the shallow breath. His fingers slipped up Akashi's arm like feathers, the eyes disappeared as Kuroko leaned to the side, tracing his nose down the man's neck.

"Show me you're not lying," Kuroko whispered against the bare skin, the heat radiating from the vein. Akashi's instincts took over, his hand jumping to grab the boy and kiss him senseless. But it couldn't as Kuroko's hand forced it back onto the bed once more.

The boy's lush lips pressed against the bare flesh before the slick tongue flicked out, rolling over the smooth canvas. Akashi sucked in breath, willing himself to not react. If this was a test, he wasn't going to lose – he had not and would not start now.

The boy's arms stretched wider, locking over Akashi's wrists. Tiny teeth clamped together as he bit, suckling sounds then continuing onwards.

God – Akashi pushed against the arms, intertwining his fingers into one cold hand as the other wound through the soft blue locks, pushing him closer. His legs tightened underneath him to steady any sign of trembling from ecstasy.

Kuroko shifted as an erotic cry rose, muffled through the pink lips. The friction of thighs was tantalizingly close, brushing carelessly across one another enough that Akashi wanted to buck his hips into the widened legs that looped over him, but he refused to let himself give in. Kuroko moved again, tracing his nose higher, lips close enough to Akashi's to touch, eyes locked for a brief moment, both unwilling to back down. He rose suddenly, breaking the exchange. The mogul's head arched forward, following the target of his desire, desperate for more. The bluenette's lips tilted upwards slightly in a brief triumph, suddenly lighting a fire of desire within Akashi.

That was enough. This boy wasn't the one that had issued the challenge in the first place – and he would learn finally who he was dealing with. It was time he made his move.

Akashi's lips were ravenous as they latched onto Kuroko's neck. His tongue lapped up the sweet taste, sweat and skin mingling into a delicious recipe. Weight shifted as Akashi leaned forward, forcing the manager to fall backwards. Kuroko could only grab onto his shoulders to not fall.

Hands clapped onto the rounded cheeks, running upwards, pushing pressure deep so he could feel every curve, every delectable inch through the tightening denim. Reaching those slim hips, he pulled down, forcing him into his lap, straddling him. The sudden force shot a wave of pleasure through Akashi, but he bit his lip, eyes glimmering as he gazed at the upper's reaction.

Kuroko caught a breath, his legs going limp at the crude ministration the man under him was treating him. The sheets ruffled as he fell hard, mouth inches from taut skin, black t-shirt pulled up slightly from before.

"Surprise you?" Akashi taunted. Those pale blue eyes spun towards him, hair caught within the long eyelashes. His cheeks bunched together, plush lips tightening as suddenly he pressed his hand onto the man's chest. Fingers tightened violently as he ran up the hardened pecs, twisting on the two nipples. Akashi gasped, eyes wide. The boy jerked his hips forward, grinding them deep into the man's groin.

As if summoned, Akashi's hands looped into the chains of Kuroko's shirt. The teen fell onto him and gasped as the mogul humped up into the perfectly shaped cavern. "You shouldn't underestimate me so soon." The boy swallowed, jelly legs stiffening as he was dragged up the t-shirt, stopping finally as he sat on Akashi's solarplexus.

A light, sticky sweat had reached across Akashi's body, as he looked up, the boy's face shadowed from the lights above, straddling his torso like a rider. It was fucking erotic.

For the first time, the barest smile fell across the small boy's face. As the face bent down once more, Akashi's hands shot up clutching his neck to kiss him senseless. He was thwarted with a yelp. Kuroko smirked, his foot pressing hard against the slight erection his client was sporting.

"You're hard, Akashi-san. Obviously you could not control yourself." With a harsh shove, Kuroko propelled himself upward, swinging a leg above Akashi's face, touching the carpeted floor with a light thump.

"Excuse me. I have a job to do now." With a fascinated gaze, the red head watched as the prey he had challenged straightened and walked out, chains clinking past each other. He didn't look back as his hand caught the shining knob of the door, the oak slamming with muted tremors through the walls.

Akashi was left, the droplets of sweat cooling on his skin, the fabric now uncomfortable and sticky. He had lost – but then again – he smirked. If that guy expected anyone to not be aroused after all of that, he was delusional. He ran through a tens of finance documents that he had gone through today, easing the pain in his pants. A brief hand combed his hair back presentable once more as he left after, the hallway still brief, and music loud. He didn't greet anyone else nor see Kuroko, although the two strippers named Midorima and Kise gawked as he left.

It was fine to let the young manager think he had won. After all – Akashi grinned once more at the thought – he was sure he felt the boy's own hardness on the last attack.

* * *

**I think it dragged at the end... was this any good? :/ I'm feeling pretty unsure of myself now. If you want more, please review! Silence = no desire for updates.**


	4. Chapter 4

**You guys are just awesome. Just amazingly, wonderfully, awesome. I worked really hard on this, so I hope that you guys like it! Would you guys like a song for the road? Search up Nightcore - Please Don't Stop the Music. :)**

**If you have any words of advice, questions, or concerns - please let me know! And enjoy.**

* * *

It was because of the noise that Kuroko woke up, his face plastered flat on a slightly moist page of _The Joy Luck Club_. He rubbed his eyes with a groan, picking out the flecks of yellow grime in the corners of his eyes.

"Oi! Do you have any real reason to come in here?" Aomine's voice rang through the sound resistant walls. His angry steps crept closer to the mahogany office as additional voices joined into a muffled and hysterical bedlam. Slowly, the teen lifted up his phone to his face. With a slow finger slide, the phone clicked peacefully of splashing water droplets.

9:11 blinked up at him lazily. Kuroko slumped back on the giant desk. He'd been getting worse about going to sleep right after people had left…pretty soon he would stop going home at all. At the very least the bluenette mused, he would like to at least go to the supermarket to stock up on eggs. He only had one left in the fridge.

With as much strength as he could muster, Kuroko ran a hand through his unruly hair, turning to the small mirror that hung discreetly on the corner wall before it bent once more. He pulled, flattened, straightened, and after squirting a bit of water into his hand, brushed it once more. Satisfied that he didn't look as much as a fluffy pup as before, he proceeded to use one of his convenient facial towels. Outside, the racket rose to a climax and a thunderous crash as Aomine burst through the door, looking irritated.

"Tetsu, Aida-san is here." His eyes darkened visibly, mouth in a tight grimace. Kuroko returned the gaze with a brief flash of emotion of his own. They calmed into his impassive gaze once more.

"Of course. I'll be right there."

Kuroko tossed his thick black waterproof jacket over himself. It almost overwhelmed the tiny figure so it looked like the manager was a fuzzy blue shrimp, but underneath the serious bulk, no one could notice his actual frame. Besides, it was getting towards winter and it was cold.

The mood was already painfully tense when he brushed back the heavy velvet curtain. Four raven heads and short brunette braced in a semicircle formation. The wide shoulder breadth of each male reminded Kuroko of a football play, ready to act.

The staff of _Lights_ wasn't much better. The neon colored heads posed in their own offensive stances. Kise's hands dug deep into the pockets of his grey slacks, his gold eyes reflecting off his scarlet vest. It was obvious he was already cleaned up from his shift. Midorima's hand tightened around an absurdly googly eyed cat figurine, its paw waving back and forth awkwardly. Kotaro was the only that looked remotely calm, his slightly intimidating smile always a useful backup.

Kuroko rubbed the nape of his neck absently. "Aida-san, what brings you here?" He stifled back a yawn. Dreams cozy blankets and clean sheets were beginning to plague his mind. He had even bought some new vanilla scented candles that he wanted to try out.

Aida smiled and stepped forward. "Kuroko-kun, nice to see you." She bowed politely, hair brushing past her green hair clips. The head of _Lights_ returned the gesture calmly.

Amongst the giant males, Aida and Kuroko both looked like munchkins. Yet very much like the bluenette, the female manager threw an intimidating and calculating aura the Miracles couldn't help but stiffen at. Becoming head manager of the infamous dance club _Shades _three years ago, the twenty-one year old was a force of nature. Whether that nature was like an unstoppable waterfall or the catastrophe of a fatal hurricane was up for some debate.

"I just wanted to apologize personally for Junpei-kun coming over last night. I want you to know that we don't mean anything offensive to the club or the shop that you run and I hope that you can forget the discretion."

Kuroko nodded thoughtfully. "That's nice of you to come over to say. But I need to point out; this is not the first time we've seen your workforce spying on our club. Out of them all, this is the most blatant attempt I've ever seen. I recall that we had already come to an arrangement on this?"

Aida nodded. "Yes, which is why I admit that Junpei-kun and Izuki-kun did this on their own – no one told them to come over, and I'm ashamed of their actions." She nodded to the men. Hyuuga bowed. "I apologize, Kuroko-san, Kotaro-san. It will not happen again." Aomine snorted in derision at this, but one glance from Kotaro silenced him.

Kuroko's hands bunched into the pockets of the oversized coat. "Hm." His fingers rubbed against the noisy polyester. "The next time that this happens, Aida-san, we will take legal action." Aida replied with a brilliant smile. "Of course, Kuroko-kun."

"If that is all, then if you will excuse us." He nodded to his staff. Kotaro clapped Kise on the back and shoved Aomine out, cheerfully yapping about boxes of dildos that no one had yet to organize or tag. Kuroko and the five visitors followed after the Miracles, copying each other's slow pace until they were the only six left in the curtained reception.

Taking advantage of the chance, Aida pulled closer to Kuroko, a gentle hand wrapping around his shoulder. "Kuroko-kun, I really am sorry for what happened."

Kuroko's glazed eyes glanced over the five faces. He looked away distractedly. "I'm sure you are." It was obvious to anyone who knew the boy that this was sarcasm.

Hyuuga clucked his teeth irritably. "You're always so tense. We did apologize," he grumbled irritably. Following soon after, a booming laugh echoed. Kiyoshi's grin was peaceful, his eyes almost shut as he bent down towards the bluenette. "Sorry about Hyuuga's temper – he's just annoyed that he was caught. But of course, that was to be expected when the Master of Misdirection is prowling around watch." The aura that emanated from the tallest giant made Kuroko all the more uncomfortable.

"It's more than just a talent for keeping the peace, Kuroko-san is gifted in everything he does; we all know that," the eagle added.

Kuroko's thanks did not reach his eyes. "Arigatou gozaimasu. Now if you'll excuse me..."

Those frightening snakelike eyes pierced themselves through Kuroko's gaze. Koganei's hand excitedly grabbed onto Kuroko's, the power of the gaze increasing wildly like friction in a firestorm. "Neh, Kuroko-chan is the best, don't you think?" The grip tightened quickly around the thin boy.

Kuroko's hand twisted suddenly in defense, aiming towards the bone that had thrown Kise's wrist into shock not only two weeks ago. But as his hand turned down, Koganei's had vanished, leaving Kuroko's hand to flail at empty air. The happy leer that danced on the stripper's face remained fixed.

Aida's calm voice tried to diffuse the sudden tension that was growing. "Kuroko-kun, you know you're adored. If only you'd come to _Shades_, you know that we'd do anything to have you. Whatever that boss of yours is paying you, we'd give you three times the amount, including benefits and bonuses."

Kuroko had gone colder in only a small length of time. Altogether, he was too aware of the silent eagle eye in the background and Aida's piercing gaze, the one that could measure talent with a glance.

"If you spent less time on trying to attract people already employed and go out to search for new talent, you wouldn't have to come here for trade secrets. Now if you'll excuse me." Aida raced in front of him to block the way past the curtain.

"You wouldn't even have to do much, Kuroko-kun, please consider it at least."

"And what would I be doing? Manager work such as you, Aida-san?" he asked coolly. She laughed slightly. "Well, some, Kuroko-kun."

Hyuuga interjected once more. "You are much more needed at _Shades _than this well run machine. We'd look forward to working with you and hopefully you would be with us, –"

"Whores."

He slipped casually past Aida-san, not turning back to the four strippers. "I do not work with whores."

There was a painful thud as Kuroko was suddenly slammed into the wall. He yelped in pain. "What did you call us - ?!" the crazed voice hissed. Koganei's grip was tight as claws around Kuroko's shoulders. He cursed as Kiyoshi pried him away from Kuroko. Not a moment after, the curtain flew open.

Murasakibara, barely arrived, flew across the room, slamming both blackettes back. Potato chips flew as his fist rammed towards Koganei. In a moment, Kiyoshi was in between, grunting as he grabbed the arm, the power almost pushing him back. Kise ran to Kuroko, running his hands over him. "Kurokocchi, are you okay?!" More Miracles began to surge in, as well as security and off-clock strippers.

Hyuuga's jaw was tight set. Izuki ran to break up the fight, as did Midorima. Kuroko nodded, rubbing his shoulder. Aida glared at Kuroko before running to help her employees.

Kuroko gaze was cold. "Please leave the premises, before we call more security."

Aida gaze Kuroko another ugly look, opening her mouth before shutting it tight. "Excuse us."

She jerked to her group and they filed out roughly. Kise was still massaging Kuroko's shoulder painfully hard, which was beginning to hurt more than the Koganei's grip had been. "Kuroko, how are you feeling? Do you need the hospital?"

"Damn assholes, attacking Tetsu like that – we shouldn't have let them be near him without us! Why didn't you look out for him, Midorima?" Aomine yelled, his face only inches from the megane figure.

"Me? I was busy, and it was only natural they were leaving right after all of us!"

Takao began murmuring obscenities and security procedures under his breath while Momoi began to mutter darkly. It might've been a clue of something disturbing – every few words sounded closely to 'slut' repeated in worse tones.

"Everyone – I'm fine, I don't need a doctor. I'm going to go home, alright?" Murasakibara dragged Kise away so Kuroko could catch a breath. "Do you need someone to walk you home, Kurochin?" He chewed on a piece of winding licorice, a concerned look on his face.

He shook his head. "I'll be fine, really." Kotaro frowned. "Takao, aren't you leaving right now? Go home with Kuroko, would you?"

"Mm – yeah, that's fine."

Kuroko sighed. There was no helping it, especially when Kotaro had that look on his face. Nothing he said would change that guy's mind. But then again, maybe Takao wouldn't be so bad to have around for a walk.

"Thank you, everyone."

Momoi sighed and hugged Kuroko tightly suddenly. "Tetsu-kun, please be more careful. I know you're brave, but you're also small. Think about what those people could do to you!"

Kuroko smiled. "I got it, Momoi-san. I will be more cautious." Soon enough, he found the entire group hugging him, including the cleaning ladies and a couple of random police officers who had come in to check the commotion. He blinked and tried to move. Everyone just pressed in harder, until Kuroko was no longer able to budge an inch. It began to feel very warm.

"Ano…everyone. Please get off me."

And slowly – with some of Kise's whining – they did.

* * *

If Kuroko was honest, he had expected to see that man again. It was predictable – almost pathetically so. Everyone came back for more; everyone wanted what they couldn't have. It was human nature.

What Kuroko didn't expect was when Akashi Seijuuro walked into the club how his skin ran cold through his body. How his veins suddenly shot with pain, and how, for a single, terrifying moment, as those red and gold eyes flickered through the crowd, he was frozen.

Kuroko swallowed, shifting his body from his lounging position, knees tucked up against the edge of the table, his back leaning into the booth. It was a childish pose he was fond of, but suddenly it wasn't comfortable anymore.

Kuroko left the darkened corner, weaving through the thickening crowd. It was not even 1 am yet, and that man – that red headed man was already here. Inwardly, the bluenette didn't know why he was doing this. He didn't know why he was avoiding the man. They hadn't seen each other for about two weeks. Kuroko had nothing to be ashamed of – a flash of what happened came back to his memory. No, he didn't have any remorse about what happened. And yet – he turned his head back in the direction that the two had walked in, peeking past the shoulders of broader men and women.

Only the slightest fog floated through the dance hall, making things all too clear to see. Akashi stood out like headlights, a gem that glittered a thousand facets in a dark room. His dark jacket, fitted and tailored, fell over the lean body in soft waves over his white shirt. Three buttons were open, leaving a trail of tanned skin tracing from his throat down below, enticing the imagination.

A grey haired companion beside him was dressed in the same dapper way, a dark suit and long slacks, blank eyes. Only a loosened tie showed resemblance of disorder in his appearance. He leaned towards Akashi to whisper in his ear. The man's lips curved slightly in amusement at what he seemed to hear.

Now, in his sleeveless hoodie, Kuroko felt chilly. He fingered the blue tie dangling in front of him tensely, the silk slipping through his fingers. He had gotten to the other side of the dance floor, as far away from the mogul as possible when he bumped into Midorima.

"Kuroko-kun, I've been looking for you. I have the list of new services we were talking about and wanted to get your okay for them." Kuroko's gaze swerved and landed on the folder Midorima was holding out.

"Yes. Let's go somewhere quieter so we can see." Quickly, he scooted into the break room, Midorima following.

The flash of green hair was evident high above the other heads of much shorter Japanese. Akashi's head snapped in the direction, only to see a pale hand disappear through the staff door followed by Midorima. His mouth pulled into a smirk.

Kuroko distracted himself with work that night. He was antsy. Was the red head still here? Had he found something else to distract him and his friend? He wouldn't let himself check though. Whenever his thoughts strayed in that direction, something else was always there to distract him. Finally, Kuroko forgot that the tycoon had even entered the club.

It was almost three o'clock when Kuroko slowed. He dragged himself to the bar with a slight smile at the bartender. In his periphery, a flash of pink hair let him know that it was Momoi's shift. Things in the club were not close to settling down, not when it was Friday night.

"Vodka martini, please. Two olives." The guy on duty nodded with a cheerful wink which made Kuroko give a slight smile in return. He placed the drink gently in front of Kuroko who took it gratefully.

"I've never seen anyone have such a childish look before yet drink with such age." Kuroko almost choked. The alcohol burned painfully in his throat. He blinked twice before turning towards the man.

"Is that supposed to be an insult?"

Akashi just grinned wider. His tilted head drew his shirt lower, letting it stretch taut over his shoulder. "No," he replied gently.

Kuroko leaned on the counter. "Your pick up lines are getting progressively worse."

The mogul's eyes glittered with amusement. "I'm sorry; I didn't know I needed a pickup line. I had thought you wanted to see me?"

"Where would you get that idea?"

Akashi wrapped his hand around Kuroko's, raising the glass up to his lips. Numbness seeped into his limbs as the mogul's lips touched the rim of the glass. The gaze didn't break as Akashi lips trailed down the glass, slowly wrapping his tongue over a single digit. The finger disappeared past his lips. Kuroko fought a shiver as he felt the moist flesh run over the digit, the rough texture rippling over the nail, before flicking over the pad playfully.

The heterochromatic eyes glowed with intensity as he bent lower. His mouth opened wider and expertly, peeled a second finger from the glass, enveloping it in delicious heat like the first. Kuroko's hand trembled, but Akashi steadied it firmly. The hot cavern felt amazing – Kuroko's body flushed with heat as the mogul began to suck gently. A third digit had been placed inside without the boy's notice.

It was only after Akashi let go – of both the fingers and the hand, seating the glass gently back on the counter that Kuroko pulled away from that gaze. Akashi smirked. "That was how I guessed it."

"If you are here to impress me, I think that boat has long sailed," Kuroko murmured, tracing his shining fingers against the glass. The saliva stuck to them in long thin strands, making him unable to feel respectable in any way, the red head's fluids over his skin.

Akashi seemed to know exactly what Kuroko was thinking. "I agree, since I seem to have already passed your test." He pulled out a clean handkerchief, holding it out towards the boy. "For you." Kuroko took the fabric slowly, wiping each finger very thoroughly, as if the very idea of Akashi's mouth near him was revolting. The man simply gazed in interest at the scene.

Kuroko attempted to give back the napkin, to which Akashi waved his hand. "Keep it, you need it more than I do." His blue eyes flashed at such a statement. Akashi remained as pleasant as ever.

"Let me get you another drink, since I took yours. What would you like?"

"Jameson whiskey. Three inches."

Akashi called the bartender over with a smile, his gaze never leaving Kuroko. Delicately, he handed the glass to Kuroko, who did not answer with any thanks. As he drank, still, the man stared. Finally, Kuroko murmured, "Where is your companion you arrived with?"

"I told him to leave without me, since I have some other things to take care of."

"Take care of?" Kuroko sniped acidly. Akashi laughed and sat down, leaning towards Kuroko. "Well, by things, they were such that weren't his business to know," he murmured quietly.

Kuroko drained the alcohol in two more sips. "Would you like to dance, Akashi-san?"

"I would love to, Kuroko-kun."

Although everything was dark, to him, the world was a blur, a fusion of people that melded together into colors, the walls and scenery in a blend of unclear figures. Nothing mattered around him, but there was heat and spinning. Because the only thing that was clear –in every detail, every eyelash, every droplet of sweat –painfully and terribly clear, was Akashi Seijuuro.

Akashi's hands wrapped tenderly around Kuroko's waist. The strong fingers made Kuroko feel alien, every touch unreal. Every brush of Akashi's clothes on his skin wracked his senses. He felt numb except only the places where those fingers caressed, running up his torso, each nerve tingling, each hair on end, each cell on fire.

The beat of the music increased until his entire body was in time with the current. Heterochromatic eyes glowed with intensity, boring deep in his soul. His own hands ran up the smoothed torso, through the thin material of the buttoned shirt, feeling the heat that radiated through to warm his freezing, trembling hands.

Their breaths intermingled and he breathed the sweet scent of alcohol, the strong exotic musk of Akashi's breath and sweat. Intoxicating, sinful as death itself. Fingers dug themselves into the fury of Akashi's hair, tightening on the soft, rich locks, thick even as he tugged. Lips brushed past the air, the presence of the other pair a dance, a dare, a riddle for nature to solve on its own.

A familiar beat rippled changes through the dance floor, reviving Kuroko just for the barest moment from the trance. Their bodies pressed against each other, unaware as the world around them. Kuroko blinked, pulling slightly away just a centimeter, trying to push the haze away, hypnotic rhythms from his mind, from his body, which ached to his closer, reflexes fighting to pull them closer to the other body. Magnetic and unfettered. But yet, he pushed away as well, confused, unaware.

That was when Akashi kissed him. Every half-baked thought in Kuroko's mind fled, going blank. His brain surrounding with heat, everything flushed in fire. Unbidden, his thin arms wrapped around Akashi's neck, and warmth surrounded him as he was pushed closer, towards the musk, the dizziness, the addiction.

The moist, soft lips were hot. Instinctively, Akashi's tongue dove past Kuroko's entrance, tasting the sweet vanilla and degrading alcohol of his breath. Kuroko's tongue wrapped around Akashi's before weakening, being dominated by the force of the red head's desire. It exploded like a dam from the red head, and his tongue dug deeper in, wanting to taste more, of this forbidden thing. This beautiful, rare, and untouchable fruit.

Kuroko pulled away first, gasping. His vision slowly returned from the blackness. Shoving Akashi away, he stumbled back into someone else, rebounding back up and finally supporting his own weight, hesitantly. Akashi's thoughts cleared in the moment as well, as he watched the bluenette flush, expression so unlike that of usual.

Kuroko looked back at his partner, messed up deliciously, lights flashing over the form, lighting his hair aflame, droplets of sweat over the nape of his neck, divine of a god. His knees began to shift in warning.

"Excuse me," the smaller male whispered. And suddenly, he was leaving, fleeing the floor, Akashi not far behind.

"Tetsuya –"

"Don't call me that," Kuroko whispered under his breath. His pace increased, faster, towards the break room, towards safety.

Akashi was faster though, grabbing Kuroko's hand. "Tetsuya!"

"Let go of me!" the bluenette hissed. "Not until you tell me what is wrong," the mogul retorted. "Why did you leave?"

"Let go." His voice was cold.

"No." Kuroko recoiled as he stared at those eyes, powerful and dominant over him. His body froze up, weak, paralyzed –

"Is something the matter?" Takao loomed over them both, his eyes glittering with malice, mostly directed towards the red head. Akashi bit his lips, angry. He kept gazing at Kuroko. "No. Nothing." Finally, he let go. "Tetsuya, please talk to me next time we meet." Kuroko said nothing in reply.

Without another look at the hawk eye, he left quickly, leaving the club.

Takao looked back at Kuroko, who was stock still. "Kuroko-kun, are you okay? Did he do something to you?" His voice was dangerous. Kuroko shook his head.

"No – I'm fine. Fine." Takao stared at him for a little longer. "If there's anything, tell me, alright? I'm here for you." He placed a gentle hand on the manager's shoulder. Kuroko nodded. "E-excuse me." Forcing his legs to move, Kuroko walked to the back, into the quiet to the office. The loud music for the first time in a so long gave Kuroko more of a migraine than he could imagine. Everything hurt, everything burned, and he shivered internally.

Dousing down an Advil, Kuroko pressed his head on the desk. More than anything, he wanted sleep, to forget the fire that was still tingling wildly on his lips, on his body that wasn't fading yet. But it wouldn't happen, and the memories, fresh and hot replayed in his mind, like a curse. A sinful and beautiful curse.

It was too long, eventually, slowly, he fell into a shallow and trembling darkness. Not a blissful, but at least some fall form of reprieve.

* * *

**Please, please review! ^.^ They make me write faster!**


	5. Chapter 5

**That's right, guys. I wrote another chapter. IN LESS THAN A WEEK! I'M SO PROUD OF MYSELF AND I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY IT! Your reviews are amazing, they really make me happy and motivate me - because of them this chapter has occurred so quickly. I had a joy writing this chapter - I know I should probably let it sit for a while before I post, but I CAN'T - so please enjoy it! I love you guys.**

**I have a feeling I'm going to be doing this every chapter - so if you don't like it, let me know! If you need a theme song for this chapter - this is the one that helped me write it! Youtube "Nightcore - Neon Lights" and click the first link! Definitely listen to it for the hotter part of the chapter. :3**

* * *

Kuroko took the day after next to buy groceries. It was something that he hadn't done in almost three weeks, and he was running out of almost every food group in his kitchen. The only thing he had for breakfast that morning was some refrigerated rice pudding and a bunch of Ritz crackers.

His stomach rumbled as he decided between two different papayas. Not for the first time that visit, he wrapped his scarf tighter around him. Apparently, the store heating system had been broken, and now the inside was in the same conditions as the outside, a chilly 43 degrees Fahrenheit. Selecting some condensed milk and a jar of Horlicks, he shuffled towards the checkout counter, cart full of food. He couldn't wait to go home – but then again, maybe, it would be better to get something from Maji's first … they did have some excellent breakfast foods and vanilla milkshakes. It would definitely be warmer inside the diner. The more he stood in line with a grumbling stomach, the more the idea appealed to him.

As entranced as he was with the idea, Kuroko didn't notice who had been near, and soon behind him in line. Thus, it was then he heard that voice – that dreadful voice that had been echoing in his mind for over a day now, ringing through the air between them like a bell. His fingers froze on the cart handles.

"Tetsuya? Is that you?"

Of course, it was impossible to mistake him for someone else. Apart from the powdered blue hair, Kuroko was at the moment, sporting the gazes of over half a dozen customers, both men and women. They gazed hungrily at the twenty year old in a loop buttoned coat, fur lining the edges of the hood, and a soft woolen scarf huddled tightly around his neck. He looked irresistibly cute and altogether too tempting to be considered in safe company, even if it was 7 AM.

Kuroko didn't answer and his eyes flicked around, wondering if he should try a different line. Sadly, as it was early morning, not many other registers were open. He stared down at his cart as red hair fell into his periphery.

"Tetsuya. It's a surprise to see you here." The voice was not condescending nor did it sound ashamed, like most people did when they saw someone in public that they had met in _Lights_. In fact, Akashi's voice sounded kind, like the meeting was something that he was pleased about having.

Kuroko nodded just barely, not meeting the tycoon's eyes. Akashi was well dressed, as always. A chestnut Armani trench coat was buttoned up tight, speckled grey scarf casually draped over his shoulders. He had a basket with him, filled with groceries that Kuroko recognized. One included a very expensive bag of freshly ground coffee beans. Kuroko had never tried them before, but he'd heard good things about them.

"I didn't know you shop here as well – do you live near here?"

The conversation was light, as if barely two days ago they hadn't shared a very passionate – and very invasive kiss. Kuroko ignored the question, shifting just a step forward as another person left. Why was this line suddenly so long? Why hadn't he decided on another line – and why hadn't Akashi just used the self-checkout like a normal person with a small basket of items?

Akashi was silent for a few moments as they moved up. Kuroko hoped that Akashi wouldn't say anything else and that he would let him go normally. Inside, he felt foolish for being such a coward – after all, Akashi hadn't done anything wrong, and it was him that had accepted this challenge in the first place. It was definitely Kuroko's fault for the tense atmosphere between them – even now Kuroko reminded himself it was only tense because of him. Kuroko's guilty ramblings fled as Akashi spoke again.

"Tetsuya – is it okay if you wait for me to finish with the checkout? I would like to talk."

The first thing he wanted to do was say no – and to say it immediately. But after everything, the gentle tone Akashi was using right now, and the confused eyes he was staring at the bluenette with, he couldn't very well say no. Slowly, he nodded. Akashi smiled, relieved. "Thank you."

After that, it seemed only moments until Kuroko was next in line. He felt even more self-conscious as he placed all of his groceries up – there were so many since he hadn't shopped in so long, it must've looked like he was buying for at least two or three people. Kuroko almost wanted to say something about it, but then shut his mouth. It wasn't like it was an owed explanation about the food to the red head – besides, the man might not even be assuming such a thing.

Kuroko loitered awkwardly near the wall as Akashi checked out with his items, fitting them neatly in three grocery bags. He smiled and came to Kuroko. "It's nice to see you outside of the club." Kuroko nodded. "You too…Akashi-san."

Akashi began to walk, going outside. Kuroko followed dumbly. Luckily, there was no wind, and the sun was out, so the weather was nice.

"I was wondering how you were, after the night before."

Kuroko said nothing again.

"Tetsuya, I want to say that I really do li –"

"Akashi-san." Kuroko stopped him. His voice felt empty, like it wasn't really him speaking, but something else, moving his mouth, spitting out the words. He bowed his head. "I'm sorry, but I cannot accept a relationship right now. I'm flattered by your interest, but this is not something that I am able to commit to right now. You deserve much more, so please do not think about me anymore."

The silence was long. Kuroko wanted to look up, at the face instead of the beautiful lacquered buttons of Akashi's coat. Finally, an amused voice spoke.

"So, this is what they mean by a beautiful rejection," his amused tone made Kuroko confused. He looked up to see dancing eyes, and the confident smirk that accompanied it. "Indeed, it is a work of art." Kuroko opened his mouth protest, but as he did, Akashi bent down, pressing his lips onto Kuroko's.

The bluenette went blank as Akashi straightened, the aura around him even more absolute. "If that is what you believe, then I'll just have to convince you otherwise."

Kuroko's eyes went wide as Akashi opened the trunk. "Do you need a ride home?" Numbly, the manager shook his head. With an awkward step to the side, Akashi loaded his groceries and shut the door with a click.

He walked up to the boy again, tracing a finger over Kuroko's pale cheek. His gaze was warm. "Please take care of yourself, Tetsuya."

With that, he walked around the boy, getting into the car. The engine started with a lively roar. Slowly, Kuroko moved out of the way, holding his cart of bagged items. The black Mercedes reversed and Akashi gave him a wink before the car turned out and drove away.

* * *

The first couple of nights, Kuroko was nervous. He told himself that he shouldn't be – Akashi had never come to the club on a weekday, and starting the next night was Monday, the second to quietest day of business. And yet, he couldn't help but feel on edge. The night was filled of frantic looks around and snapping heads. His staff only could stare in concern as they wondered why their calm and collected manager became suddenly crazed.

By Wednesday, he had calmed down enough that he stopped looking over his shoulder. It was simply impossible to be paranoid all the time – at least if you weren't practiced at it. With the eclectic and sometimes psychotic group that surrounded him, there was more than enough to do without Akashi hovering in his thoughts. So, without any more thoughts about Akashi, the manager fell back into a stable pace of work and friends. It was in this mood that Kuroko felt when Thursday rolled around.

* * *

"You look absolutely adorable, Tetsu-kun!" Momoi gushed. Kuroko turned to her, his eyebrow raising just slightly. The people that accompanied her to their favorite booth all shifted uncomfortably. Their eyes moved shiftily away from the blue haired angel. Adorable was not the term any of the Miracles would class as their idol and boss slid down the vinyl, the cushion breathing and releasing as his bottom rose and fell. The material groaned under the weight.

Sinful was a better word to describe what sipped through his tiny red straw, arm lounged on a propped knee. His hair was gelled carelessly, sticking up variously in a hot mess. Slender legs glowed ethereally in the darkness, the heavy cargo pants falling on its own weight down its owner's thigh. The thin oversized shirt fell lopsided off shoulder. A thoughtful glazed expression ran across the supervisor's face and his soft features turned towards the group. Members hardened without further encouragement.

"Thank you, Momoi-san. Good work up there. You were quite in the Zone, weren't you?"

The large breasted girl plopped down beside him excitedly, glowing with such a recommendation. "Oh, that was nothing, but thank you! Who really was in _the_ Zone was Daiki – he raked in so much cash tonight that I'm sure he'll treat us all for dinner one night, eh?"

Aomine grunted, irritated. "Like that will happen, Satsuki." Momoi pouted, wrapping her arms around the innocent temptation beside her. "Tetsu-kun works so hard, and you won't even treat him to some food? What kind of best friend do you call yourself?" The tan stripper waved a frantic arm in protest. "I didn't say anything about being ungrateful for Tetsu, don't put words into my mouth!"

"Well, then it's settled, we'll all be treated by you! Thank you, Dai-kun." There was a general mumble of thanks from everyone else, including Kuroko who bobbed his head vacantly in Aomine's direction. "Arigatou, Aomine-kun…"

Everyone's trained ears began to lose focus as Aomine yelled louder. "Oi - I didn't say anything about the rest of you!"

"Like we'll let Kuroko-kun stay alone with a pervert like you, Aomine…" Midorima muttered, swishing around his gin and tonic. Contentedly, Kuroko watched his group. It was a casual Thursday night and everything was running smooth as ever. Kise waved over to Kagami, who lumbered over with a slight blush in Kuroko's direction, not that anyone could notice such a thing in the dark. He was dressed in a regular black shirt and jeans, looking just off of work.

"Hey, guys. Everyone relaxing?" he asked.

Kuroko nodded. "Did you get yourself a drink, Kagami-kun? It'll be on the house." Kagami raised up a glass. "Thanks, Kuroko-kun." The six of them began to chat, Momoi talking about how she was finally moving into her new apartment – the old one had a creepy old man that she was sure was peeking through her mail. Midorima yelled at Aomine as the large man dangled a fluffy heart shaped pillow in front of his face. The green head grabbed for his Oha-Asa item with a passion. Kise babbled endlessly to Kuroko, who responded with general nods. His earplugs made all conversation slightly muffled, but everyone yelled loud enough over the music to be heard.

After a half hour of talking, Kagami poked Kuroko. "Hey, isn't that Akashi Seijuuro?" Kuroko's head swiveled.

In a place where sex dripped around you, erotic gestures just dull into monotony. Hormones barely spiked with the view of hair splattered drenched, rivets of sweat that glistened over tight abs. Not does the sweet squeeze of promiscuous flesh excite any warmth in the usual places. It all became boring, the same. The extraordinary became unoriginal and bland.

But when Kagami pointed in the direction of yet another piece of ass, there was one thought that shot through Kuroko Tetsuya's mind, slapping all other sanity and tepidity away until his body had gone cold. And it was that no matter how many times he saw it, it will never be boring to watch Akashi move.

The man sauntered with the grace of a leopard, always waiting for its prey. Every movement made was languid, but as selective as heaven's gate itself. Fingers twirled in deliberate movements, gentle enough to make you fear why anything needed to be so sweet. His shoulders rolled back unconsciously, and yet his body lounged because full attention was not needed – especially not towards you, anyway. His feet always tilted distractedly, as if ready to drift away any time the fancy suited him.

He wore no jewelry, not even a watch. A simple thin turtleneck wrapped around his lean form. And then, his lazy eyes swiveled, locking with Kuroko's. And suddenly, Kuroko's body was moving – shoving Momoi and Kagami out of the way, not even apologizing as she caught the table for stability. He darted into the crowd, disappearing into the flashing lights.

Akashi smirked. The relaxed posture he had shifted. He moved.

The world was hard to make out. Beams flashed rapidly, hoping to cause epilepsy that would drive dancers to the edge of their madness. Bodies were in one position, then another, only white pictures, followed by black abyss. The lights kept flashing. Kuroko kept pushing.

Barely developed girls rubbed obscenely against men twice their age, makeup heavy and slits high. The raucous laughter of domestic beer addicts grunted against his ears as Kuroko passed, reaching to fondle him before slumping onto one another. Their drunken laughs thundered over each other in a violent thrum. The people melded together into a blob – how in the world did the crowds get so thick suddenly? Kuroko's mind raced as he struggled to remember whether it was always like this in the club.

His throat constricted uncomfortably as pot infused smoke wafted through the air, heavy and overwhelming. He dared not look back, not look back and see those eyes, stalking him with a glow that made him fear his own body, and the betrayal that it would foolishly commit.

All too soon, the cool hand caught his wrist, curling around it with greed. Kuroko's body reacted on its own, and it moved, fled, uncaring of the anchor that now locked him to the spot.

"Running from someone?" asked the pleased drawl.

Kuroko whirled around. His arm had now become useless to him, paralyzed with the poison of the man's touch. He snapped too quickly, words full of loathing. "Like I would ever." His brain registered to use his other arm to snatch Akashi's away, but it was impossible – one more touch and both arms would become victims. The molten gaze wrapped itself around Kuroko, burrowing ever deeper in his body until slowly all was becoming numb.

Frantically, Kuroko did the only thing he could, twisting his entire body until the arm was loose. Feeling returned, but the gaze, now as amused as it was occult refused to release him. Kuroko's face contorted into an unnatural show of emotion, ripping his eyes away towards the velvet walls beside them.

"What are you doing here?" Kuroko murmured, almost inaudible to his own ears. Akashi answered simply. "I'm here to complete the thing I promised. I never go back on my word." Akashi advanced a single pace, drawing nearer to the short manager, closing in the space between them. "You look delectable tonight, Tetsuya."

Kuroko's jaw tightened, refusing to let himself move back like his body urged him to do. "You should not waste your time anymore with me. I have work to do."

"At least give me a few minutes of your time? Can you not spare me that?" Akashi pleaded with wide eyes. Kuroko kept his voice hard, like his chest, which was no longer moving. His breaths had gone shallow in the atmosphere – his brain foggier. Was the weed still affecting them from so far away?

"I am working right now, Akashi-san. This is not a break I can afford. Enjoy your time here."

Akashi took another step forward and automatically, Kuroko stepped away, directly into the waiting arm that wrapped around his waist gently, pulling him towards the looming figure. Kuroko nerves tingled unnaturally and his face grew into the unfeeling mask of before. The mogul smiled.

"Then please, as a customer in your establishment. Give me a few minutes of your time. I have a question for my manager."

A lump was growing rapidly in Kuroko's throat. "Release me," he murmured. He forced himself to focus, as the pressure lightened, scowling all the while. His feet shifted uncertainly, trying to see whether he could trust himself to move without collapsing. "What do you want?"

"Can we go somewhere a little quieter?" Akashi murmured, gently tilting his chin upward.

Kuroko nodded stiffly, following the mogul to a hidden corner of the room that few noticed. It kept the people that made out around them to a minimum, their entangled bodies only making Kuroko's heart twist more violently in return.

Akashi's breath was heavy in Kuroko's ear as he neared the smaller male. His body covered him from most of the purple neon that reflected off the vapors, glowing luminescent in the din. "But I mean it. You do look beautiful today."

"Is that so?"

Akashi laughed. Heat radiated off him through the threadbare fabric on Kuroko's skin. "You sound critical about it."

"That's because I never look anything but good." Those cold blue eyes stared into the fire with steel. "If that is all you wanted to talk to me about," he said, his body growing stronger as the words came out, "Then I suggest you exc –"

"Shh." Something hard invaded his mouth, a salty taste erupting over his taste buds. Kuroko almost spit it out, but Akashi held it in place gently, balancing it over the delicate pearls that it sat between. "Relax for a while, Tetsuya. Please." His breath ruslted against Kuroko's hair as he bent down, biting over the other half of the pretzel.

Kuroko's chest stilled as his eyes followed Akashi's lips, enveloping the stick through the dark entrance. Kuroko's lips parted slightly, and the world darkened as those lips pressed against his in soft, warm bliss. Somewhere in the haze, the pretzel cracked and disintegrated, filling Kuroko's mouth in sharp, salty sensations. Akashi's tongue pushed further in, shoved the bits away, invading the bluenette's cavern deeper. Kuroko's tongue fumbled, overwhelmed. His eyes watered, trying to chew the sharp end away, but instead, his mouth clamped harder on Akashi's tongue.

Akashi's chest pressed harder over Kuroko's body, wrapping his body around the boy like a cocoon. Strong hands pulled his wrists away from the gap between them, clamping them onto the soft velvet behind them, high above Kuroko's head.

As the saliva quickly softened the biscuit into nothing, Akashi's tongue maneuvered, widening the opening as he pleased. Kuroko gasped, trying to gain air, only to be overwhelmed Akashi's scent, thick and intoxicating. As soon as the he swallowed, the mogul latched back onto his mouth, sucking delicately on Kuroko's organ.

Everything became electrified, a heat the voltage of lightning shot through his body until he was on fire. Deeper he was invaded, hotter he grew, clawing onto Akashi's shirt, digging into his hair, pulling the mogul closer to him with more force than he could imagine.

His body betrayed him like he knew it would, his mind echoed with the roar of lust driving him like rage. He was ravenous as he yanked the fabric viciously, obsessed with only one thing – to dominate the piece of sex that offered to him. He pulled himself higher, forcing more traction to shove himself inside. Tongues fought, slick with saliva over each other, shoving and suckling like mad.

There was no awareness, no notice of ground nor air. Kuroko barely heard the sound of a curtain being shut, or of himself being lowered as he was laid onto the couch, contact breaking for the first time since they had interlocked. He gasped madly; lungs were on fire for air.

It was perfectly dark, with only the dim haze of blue light. Kuroko recognized the room immediately – it was one of the upstairs private suites, for those that had paid. A step below VIP – it was for the rich that didn't want to be disturbed – especially for some time with a favorite stripper. It was not something Kuroko had ever used before, nor did he intend to. The familiar surroundings threw a raft of reason into his animal vision as Akashi bent over him once more.

"N-mmph," Kuroko's voice muffled as Akashi's mouth locked over his own once more, drowning him in bliss. "N-stop. Stop." His voice was breathy and drifting. Kuroko himself wasn't sure if he had even spoken or if it was just all in his head.

"Why?" Akashi murmured.

"I – don't want to," Kuroko whispered frantically. His body cried for him to give in, his mind rejoicing along the same lines, but he shoved those thoughts away. He had to refuse, he had to stop it. His mind flashed dangerously with images, his heart screamed go him the warnings.

He had to be strong. He had to win.

Akashi stopped suddenly. The heat suddenly disappeared and the weight lifting from his body. Kuroko looked around slowly, disoriented. Suddenly, the lights came on, showing the shining lamps and polished tables. The mogul stared down at him, skin flushed. He climbed on top of Kuroko once more, and suddenly, the boy wished the lights hadn't been flipped. Akashi's gaze pierced through Kuroko until he feared he would disintegrate.

"Why?" he asked again.

Kuroko swallowed. "It's not your business," he snapped. He placed a hand on the lithe body in front of him, pushing him away. "I don't want you."

Akashi stared at him for a long moment. The gaze he received from those blue irises was chilling. Then, those heterochromatic eyes suddenly darkened. He chuckled. "Is that so, Kuroko Tetsuya?" The icy look disappeared into a mask of indifference as Akashi drew nearer.

As his hands traced down the bluenette's torso, Akashi whispered tenderly. "Here is the problem though, dear little Tetsuya." Warm hands slipped underneath the thin fabric, pushing it up. Kuroko's heart raced erratically, panic flooding his body.

"While I may have passed your test, you have yet to have one of your own. What right do you have to deny me?" Kuroko opened his mouth to yell, only to have it covered by Akashi's own. His tongue dove in, invading him deeper. His arms weakened suddenly, unable to push him back as the shirt slid higher over his head, the cold air and unearthly heat clashing onto each exposed nipple, goosebumps prickling over his skin.

Akashi broke the kiss, and Kuroko lay helpless, his body a shell, his mind blank. The image seared into his brain as the man above him sat up, pulling his black sweater off, throwing it on the floor with a slight thump. The faint abs rippled powerfully through the body.

Akashi's lips traced slowly over the expanse of Kuroko's chest, breath just tickling the skin. Smooth hands roamed slowly on the sides of the slender male. A shudder shook Kuroko's body into tremors and languidly, the mogul began to lick, rolling his tongue over the unblemished skin. The bluenette's fingers tightened into Akashi's hair unconsciously as he gasped inaudibly, eyes wetting barely with new tears.

The tongue continued to trace circles on Kuroko's chest, unhurried in drawing upward. His fingers floated over the skin, until they reached one erected nipple, tickling it before he tweaked it, rubbing it between two digits. Kuroko whimpered as he pulled Akashi's head forward. He wanted to fight it, but nothing was listening to him – his body jerked in fear and delight.

Descending on the other nipple, Akashi's lips suckled contentedly, pressing it playfully between his lips before pressing on it slowly. Kuroko cried out and his body arched into the heat of his mouth, begging for more. As if to obey, Akashi sucked harder, the sounds of smacking and licking echoing in the room, yet barely noticeable to the bluenette's ears.

Kuroko gasped, and blood pulsed, each flick of Akashi's tongue pushing harder on the painful ache in his pants, so unbearable he felt like he would go mad at any moment. "Aka-akashi," he whispered. "I – I can't –"

He cried out softly as Akashi released his nipple, massaging the supple skin upward until he latched onto Kuroko's neck. He began to suckle softly and all the bluenette could do was wrap his arms tighter around his neck for support.

"Tetsuya," Akashi whispered. "Trust me." Another kiss made Kuroko's vision explode in delirium, distracting him from the growing agony down below.

"I – I," he whispered hazily. He couldn't say anything else, as a devastating moan escaped his mouth. At that erogenous sound, Akashi couldn't control himself. He pulled the bluenette from the couch to upright him. The boy clawed into his back biting Akashi's neck so hard until he tasted iron. As Akashi's tongue bobbed and dipped down into his navel, Kuroko's self-control burst.

A hot, wet torrent exploded into his pants, throwing him into a bout of pleasure. His vision turned red and black, reveling in the highs of his release. Kuroko gasped, tears on the verge of falling. His face was red and his eyes foggy with disorientation. As Akashi looked at it, the beast inside him exulted, wanting to ravish him more. His face grew into an exultant one, drunk with passion. But a second emotion emerged only a moment later, oceans stronger than the first, filling him with unequivocal warmth. His heart filled with happiness. Happier than anything before.

Kuroko looked at Akashi's face and the lustful smirk that accompanied that first unfortunate, fleeting moment – muddled through his delirium. Suddenly, his anger surged through him even stronger than the heat from a moment before. With brutal force, he shoved Akashi away. The mogul was thrown in shock, falling to the ground.

Snapping up, the manager grabbed his shirt, his steps shaky and awkward with the cooling bout of wetness in his cargo pants. He pulled it on quickly and threw the curtain back, stalking out and down the stairs in a fury. Misdirection surged like it had never done before, and the crowds seemed to part like the sea at his very presence. At a glance, he saw Akashi chasing him once more, but he didn't care –he wouldn't be able to follow him at this pace.

This was his club and his domain. The red head was a fool to think he could beat him here. Kuroko made his was over to Kotaro. The second in command looked at him with alarm at the contorted scowl on his face. "What is it, Kuroko-kun? What's wrong?"

"Kick Akashi Seijuuro out when you see him. If he tries to find me, tell him he'll be banned if he does."

Kotaro nodded slowly. "Yes – but Kuroko-kun, what happened?" he asked again, concerned.

"Just do it." Kuroko left as quickly as possible, before Kotaro could notice anything else wrong with him.

Akashi was close behind the bluenette when the boy was suddenly swallowed up in the crowd, slipping through it like the snake and expert he was. By the time that he had fought his way out of the crowd, Kuroko was gone. In his place, the bouncer Takao and the man Akashi remembered as Kotaro were coming forward.

Takao's gaze was furious. His voice laced with danger. "I'll have to ask you to leave the premises, sir." Akashi's eyes flicked to Kotaro. In a rare show of seriousness, the blonde's jaw was set. His arms crossed across his chest in a defensive stance. "Please leave right now, Akashi-san. Continuing to stay here tonight will not benefit you."

The red head put his hands into his pockets. "Is that so?" He took a steady breath to calm the adrenaline pumping through his veins. "Then I won't argue." Takao stayed shoulder to shoulder with him until Akashi entered out into the night air. He forced down a shiver, his hard member softening as the very memory seared his eyes. That face that Kuroko made, he wouldn't forget. The shame in his eyes.

* * *

He had to clean himself and his soiled undergarments as soon as he could. The hurt welling inside him began to flood his heart as the anger subsided. He wiped the lingering water in the end of his eyes. The smirk that Akashi had seared into Kuroko's mind. His heart ached at the stab of pain.

If he thought he could get what he wanted, then Akashi Seijuuro is a fool. He won't be taken in, no matter how good of a chase he put up. He won't just be another body, nor another name. He was not going to be beaten. Not by anyone.

Kuroko locked the office door, pulling the curtain across. Pulling out another pair of pants, he quickly stripped waist down. He didn't bring additional underwear, so until he was off, he'd have to go commando. There were worse things right now to think about. His heart twisted painfully. His hand went to his neck and he raised his shirt up.

Nothing was obvious right now, but he was sure that the skin would bruise. The man had marked him. The taste of iron flooded his mouth. Apparently he had bitten his tongue. Hard. The taste was good for him; it made him gain his senses. As he stared into that mirror, he let his face fall, sad eyes reflecting back at him. The next moment, they turned cold once more. He forced himself to stop trembling, letting all emotion run cold in his soul.

He won't lose. He won't ever submit. Not to anyone. Not even to Akashi Seijuuro.

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**Please review. You guys are great.**


	6. Chapter 6

**This… chapter sucks. It does. If I were you I wouldn't read it. Don't read it. Don't.**

**WHY am I putting it up, you ask?! Because this author has weird whims and it's Akashi's birthday – SO I GIFT HIM WITH THIS TERRIBLE CHAPTER! TTT_TTT Please, guys, bear with me through this. Thank for sticking with me.**

**I promise – one day, I shall go back and edit this to be much better than it is. Even so, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

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The pen waved back and forth as Kuroko twiddled it through his fingers. He stared thoughtfully at the nervous scene above him. The silence grew awkward as a page flipped over on his clipboard, then back once more. The manager scratched the back of his head, rubbing a nail past that feather soft hair. Kise looked anxiously at Muraskibara, who continued to eat potato chips, shrugging his shoulders in response. The three young males that were on stage looked at each other, sweat beginning to break out on the napes of their necks.

Finally, Kise decided to break the tension. "Kurokocchi?" The bluenette looked up in question.

"Uh – I think they're good, don't you? I mean – they're Seirin High!" He looked up in slight awe at the trio and gave them an excited nod. The three grinned, looking back at Kuroko once more in earnest. Kuroko took the sunglasses that were perched on his head, folding them up. "They're good. But I just want the best – this is _Light's_ anniversary – the most important event we do all year. Its reputation is almost impossibly high as it is. We can't afford mistakes as big as music." Kise tried to keep the smile in place as he tiptoed over, kneeling on the floor to meet Kuroko's height.

"But – Kurokocchi!" he whispered incredulously. "They're _Seirin High_! It's not like they're some amateur group! They toured in America! They've sold millions of albums! They're _right in front of us!_" At this, Kise's eyes began to sparkle and unconsciously, his body began to move forward, sharpie in hand like a sword. Grabbing Kise's shirt, Kuroko anchored him to his side. "They may be _Seirin_ but this is _Lights_. We're not just some little club, Kise-kun."

Indeed, Lights was not any nightclub. The name itself was almost a brand – such as Kleenex or Duct Tape to the mass public. There are many ways to describe how heavily regarded this club is. One way would be to say that on Japan's official website, this was listed as the top 5 hot spots of Japan, others including the Tokyo Tower and the giant Buddha statue.

Similarly, if you wanted to impress someone like Donald Trump – or in a more likely sense, trying to have a one night stand with him – you might get him in on a precious weekend night. Maybe if you wanted to lie to your college buddies, you would say how you once snuck past fabled impenetrable security to gaze at the strippers that were called Miracles of God – or the MOG. Or was it the GOM? It didn't really matter anyway.

The nightclub was not the biggest in Japan, much less the world. It was two floors, a total of over 6,000 square feet of crystal and silver, imported rugs and a bar that would make even someone like Akashi Seijuuro jealous. Each marbled inch of bathroom wall, every handcrafted chandelier, and rosewood countertop shined like polished jewels. The waitlist to get in had to be signed months in advance. Heavy bribes could bump you at most to within a month of entry. Only the truly important was deemed appropriate for full access, all the time.

And somewhere, there was the whisper of a phantom god that created this Elysium of the night. One that dwelled at the club and watched over it like a passing shadow – an angel if you please. No one ever knew what he looked like, for photography was strictly prohibited inside the premises. One camera and you were banned for life. Nevertheless, people have tried to sneak a photo. And as always, no one has ever succeeded.

This god, the rumors said, was beautiful. Whenever you got close enough to him, suddenly he'd disappear before your eyes. His voice was smooth and as comforting as velveteen on the soul.

The irony of this club is that it was barely three years ago that this epitome of Japanese sin was a nameless nightspot. It had a usual bar, with nothing significant or impressive to its name. And suddenly, Lights became a standard of life. It was around this time that rumors began of the phantom. But then, those are all coincidences.

"Boy, I haven't been this nervous about an audition since we played in front of our future agent three years ago," Furihata joked shakily. Kawahara cackled in a rather disturbing fashion. "Yeah, it's kind of nostalgic!" He rubbed the back of his neck over and over.

Finally, Kuroko seemed to make his decision. He stood up, bowing to the three. "Well, Furihata-san, Fukuda-san, Kawahara-san, I'm very happy to ask you to be our band for our seventh anniversary, if that pleases you." The boys widened their eyes slightly and jerkily bowed back and forth. "Ah – definitely! Thank you very much!"

They began to cheer, hugging each other in a giant ball. All looked like they were about to cry in relief – although why three international singers should be crying at being rejected for one gig was beyond everyone's comprehension. Kise seemed to catch their emotional release, suddenly hugging Kuroko's head tightly to his chest, bawling. Kuroko flailed about, dropping the clipboard and his thermos of tea, trying to push the blonde away.

Lazily, the blonde was pulled upward, floating an inch above the air. Murasakibara munched on a handful of chips, the bag held in the same hand that was holding Kise's shirt. As Kuroko gasped, straightening his shirt. Kise screamed as sharp bits of fried potato falling uncaringly down Kise's back. "Ah – that hurts! It hurts!" Kuroko inserted his earplugs. In the background, Seirin High – the band name deriving from the high school the three had gone to when they formed the group – packed up their equipment.

"Thank you, Murasakibara-kun," Kuroko said. The purple headed manager nodded. "Hai, Kuro-chin…" He let Kise go and the blonde moaned pitifully at the bruises. Kawahara dropped down from the stage, holding out a hand eagerly to the bluenette. "Thank you so much for this opportunity, Kuroko-san! I hope we can work well together!" Kuroko nodded in reply. "I do too. I'll send the appointment times to your agent, so please don't worry."

With a glance to the side, he spotted a familiar face lingering on the edge of the dance floor. "If you'll excuse me then." He slipped from the band who struck up a conversation with Kise.

"Kagami-kun, what are you doing here at this time of day?" The bulky twenty-one year old shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. "Hey, Kuroko-kun. I didn't want to bother you while you were working – do you have some free time now?"

"Of course," Kuroko replied, walking back towards the office. "Come in. Would you like some tea?" Kagami waved it off quickly. "No, thanks. That's not necessary." The delivery man was wrapped up tightly in his scarf, a large grey utility jacket thrown loosely over his frame. He looked around the office, picking at some of the folders. "I haven't been here in a while…" His hands dug deeper inside his pockets. "It hasn't changed at all since then."

"Did you have something that you wanted to talk about, Kagami-kun?" Kuroko asked once more.

Out of all the people that he worked with at _Lights_, if he had to choose one that he was closest to; Kagami Taiga would be that individual. Even though their personalities were as different as oil and water, they understood each other. Kagami always thought that Kuroko was strong and resilient, capable of weathering anything with a fortitude that he wished to emulate. Kuroko thought that Kagami was passionate and decisive. That kind of spirit and loyalty made their friendship grow with mutual respect.

Kagami struggled to get the words out of his mouth. "Kuroko… I just wanted to ask… if everything was okay." When the manager stared back at him, unresponsive, Kagami continued quickly. "It's just that last week – with Akashi Seijuuro. You were upset – Kotaro said that you definitely did not look okay. Aomine and Momoi-san told me what's happened so far, and it doesn't sound good. I know that you handle this stuff by yourself – but you'd tell us if something was wrong, right?"

Kuroko's eyes remained blank as ever, but his body lowered into a respectful bow. "Kagami-kun, I'm sorry to worry you. It was just a bad night. There's nothing wrong." Kagami ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated for something to say. "Look – you almost banned him from the premises! That means something! I mean –" His voice dropped low, slightly strained. "I won't ask, if you don't want to tell me. But after last time… don't hold things in. Okay?"

Kuroko stared into Kagami's fierce gaze. His softened. "You're right. I'm sorry, I've been stupid. It's not like that time. I promise. I'm okay."

Kagami nodded sternly. "… Alright. That's – that was all then," he ended awkwardly. Kuroko gave Kagami the barest smile. "Are you going to work now?"

"Ah – well, with the anniversary of this place coming around, Tatsuya is forcing me into meetings to arrange everything for the club." He slapped both hands on his face, pulling on the skin taught until he looked a bit like a ghoul. "But I'm starving for some breakfast. He can wait."

"I don't think that you should postpone such an important meeting, Kagami-kun," Kuroko chastised, getting his coat. Even though he said that, if Kagami was hungry, there was nothing that would stop him from getting food.

"He can wait as long as it takes," he growled. "Come on, I'm going to Maji's."

"Hai, hai."

* * *

Murasakibara called in sick early Friday morning, only a couple minutes after Takao had successfully wafted some smelling salts under the noses of the last couple of girls. They scrambled to their feet, each muttering something about work and a few choice curse words before leaving the premises.

"Kuro-chin…I think I ate something bad…" the store manager mumbled. There was a smacking noise muffled in the background.

"Murasakibara-kun, are you eating right now?" A rustling followed through the line, which Kuroko interpreted as the man shaking his head. "No, I'm taking stomach acid pills that taste like caramel…Muro-chin told me to eat it. I don't like it as much as the vanilla candies you got me last month though…"

"Well, Himuro-kun is right. You should eat something that settles your stomach so that you can come back quickly. Take care of yourself."

The purple head kept grumbling. "I'm sorry, Kuro-chin…I'm giving you more work."

"It's fine, Murasakibara-kun. By the way, what were you eating before you began getting those aches?"

"I found these chocolate cakes that were on the ground – the package was open, but none of them were eaten, so I guessed that meant it was safe."

Kuroko didn't try to hold back a sigh. "Murasakibara-kun…" In the background, he heard the chastising voice of Himuro Tatsuya, begging the giant to stop grabbing for the twinkies in the pantry. "I'm going to find someone to replace you alright, so just get better."

"Okay, Kuro-chin…" With that, the line disconnected.

In the end, even with Kuroko's undeniable charm and sniffling act, there wasn't a single free employee to work at the shop that evening. He rubbed his eyes painfully. It was almost eleven and he was still at the club. Rarely did he ever stay up this late.

Hazily, the boy opened up his emergency supplies chest, which consisted of a pillow, fluffed blanket and a giant family sized can of cocoa mix. Once he walked back to his apartment, there would be little time to get some sleep before he inevitably had to open the shop once more at six PM. With a long yawn, Kuroko snuggled into his chair, digging deeper into the fluff of the stale fabric.

There were a couple of girls that came into the shop, fidgeting as they tried to look over their shoulders without drawing attention to themselves. The behavior was typical – no one really wanted to be caught in a sex shop, especially so close to one of the most famous clubs in town. But then again, that was the draw. Curiosity brought customers here, and it was Kuroko's job to make them feel comfortable enough to stay.

"Hello, what can I get you ladies today?" he asked, putting on a charming smile. The two blinked quickly, clearing their throats. "Uh – well – we were looking for some nipple clips…and uh – maybe a dildo?"

"What kind were you looking at?" Kuroko led them away cordially. The two blushed slightly but described what kind of use they were wanting. The requests were relatively simple, and with a few helpful words, both of them bought what they wanted and twenty dollars more.

They left cheerfully with a wave, both hinting lightly how they hoped to see him again. Kuroko bowed them from the shop. As soon as they left, he groaned. Even with the four hours scrounged in his office, he was exhausted. His eyes hurt and a slow throbbing was forming in his head. Probably, he would have to left Kotaro run the club tonight, even if it was Friday. He shuffled into the back room for some coffee, which is the reason why he didn't hear the bell chime only a few moments after.

In retrospect, he wished that he had. If he did, then he would have been able to prepare better when he walked back to the front, rubbing his eyes and sipping a mug. For when he looked up, there Akashi was, waiting quietly at the register.

In his right mind, Kuroko would've been more eloquent, composed, and much more evasive. But he wasn't, and in his haze, he could only say one thing. "Hi…"

Akashi smiled just slightly. "Evening, Tetsuya." Kuroko took a couple more steps forward, his steps suddenly unsteady. Adrenaline began seeping painfully through his chest like acid. "What...are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to talk. Is this a good time?" Kuroko stared at his register. Now it was painfully clear that the store was silent. Why did they never have music? He would have to talk to someone about that…

"I'm working right now, so maybe some other time." Akashi nodded slowly, glancing at the empty shop. "Tetsuya. I didn't mean to hurt you in any way. I hope that you know that. If you ever think that I was trying to take advantage of you, I would never think of it. Please forgive me."

The ups and down of the wood grains seemed horribly boring as Kuroko kept staring, unable to look at the man in front of him. The presence that emanated from the well-dressed mogul was altogether blinding. Even more, he had never before heard Akashi's voice in such a silent atmosphere. Had it always been this rich and clear?

Each syllable was articulated beautifully, like an old karuta poem from another era. "I'd like to make it up to you. At least over lunch, whenever it suits you."

It took a moment for Kuroko to pull away from his trance as Akashi's voice halted. He blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Would you join me for lunch? As an apology." Kuroko opened his mouth and shut it. Finally, he forced out, "I can't."

"Is it inconvenient? Is breakfast more suitable?"

Kuroko shook his head. "No, it's not that. I thank you for your apology. I'm sorry for my behavior. But I can't go out with you –"

"It's definitely not a date," Akashi rebutted firmly. "It's just a treat for me to apologize. If I don't, then I won't be able to clear my conscience no matter what. Just once." Kuroko's brain was not working. If it was the lack of sleep in the last two days or the damnably sexy and repentant tone the red head was sporting, he wasn't sure, but excuses weren't forming to come out of his mouth. He gaped like a fish, flicking his eyes every this way and that, away from the chiseled face of his confessor.

"I really am busy…"

"One lunch. You can even e-mail or just text me a date, if that suits you."

Kuroko nodded slowly. The fuel was definitely leaving…he just realized it had been almost a day since he ate. Maybe that was what was wrong. "That's fine."

Akashi let out a breath, his eyes shining with relief. A business card slid across the table. "I wrote my personal cell and e-mail, so when you're available, just let me know." In one smooth motion, he then reached out, cupping Kuroko's hand in his and kissed the boy gently. "Have a good night."

Something sunk with a heavy thud as Akashi left, the chiming ringing through the room. What did he just do…? His face contorted, eyes horrified. He was supposed to end things, and quickly. He had promised that to himself. His hand rose to his neck, rubbing the fading bruises on his neck that had been covered up by layers of foundation.

No…things had just begun to unfold.

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**Review even if I don't deserve it. I'm just that selfish of an author.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Don't expect these kinds of updates all the time! T.T I will definitely not survive if this kind of speed keeps up. YES guys – this is a FULL CHAPTER – and I have a definite problem. Definitely. I'm getting obsessed with my own story. This is definitely not good. NOT GOOD. You guys need to convince me to stop – but you won't will you?! Because it means more chapters! For all of YOU.**

**It's fine. I love spoiling my duckies. ^_^**

**On another note: *GLOMP* Yes, I shall glomp all of you for your wonderful reviews of the last chapter. They raised up my spirits so much. I shall keep glomping all of you so much because of all my reviewers and readers – YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING. I just hope you don't get tired of me and stop R&Ring me.**

**Now, theme song! Hmmm…. This one is just nice mood music – Youtube "Nightcore - Stereo Hearts (Female Version)" and click the second link. And now after that long Author Note – Enjoy!**

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The Miracles were up to something. Well, more than usual anyway, and more pitifully obvious than ever. That was such the trend with the hot and sexy idiots that worked at _Lights_ – the harder they tried to keep natural, the weirder they became.

It had been going on for days now. In secretive groups, the five scurried, foraging for information like mice in winter and whispering loud enough to wake up Kuroko from his naps in his office three rooms down. Little post-it notes were passed around in the shape of cute origami cranes containing chibi drawings of the bluenette, strange hand signs communicated across the room during dinner added to the less than stellar spy skills of everyone involved, including the powder blue boy that sat right in the middle of their booth.

There was a very good reason for their distressing behavior. For as kooky as the Miracles' gestures were, the more worrisome fact was that their boss, Kuroko Tetsuya, barely noticed it. Kuroko was gone. And the Miracles were panicked.

At first, it didn't seem like anything too disturbing. Most guessed that Kuroko's distance was from his exhaustion. Everyone agreed that he worked too hard and too many hours for his own good. It was even proven on Friday night when the bluenette took the night off to get some well needed rest. Kotaro agreed that he had looked extremely pale and shaky. But the next day when the manager returned, gone was that sharp, emotionless gaze. Instead a hazy, gloomy light surfaced out of his unfocused irises.

Then, Midorima began to notice a few things. On Sunday morning, he began to hear strange mumblings from the office. Peeking in, he saw his boss, staring fiercely at his computer screen. Quickly, the boy would click a couple of keys before deleting them. Spastically, he looked back at the calendar pinned on his desk before clicking and deleting once more.

"No – it's not – no…" And then the boy's head would be in his hands, moaning quietly to himself.

Quietly, Midorima mentioned this in passing to Kise, who jumped up wildly. "It's you too?" he gasped. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Kise shook his head, feeling quiet relieved. "Yesterday, I saw him texting. I thought it was no big deal, but when I came back from the bathroom, he suddenly he hid his phone from me, as if he was hiding something."

"How strange…" Midorima mused. The blonde closed in on him, whispering fiercely. "You don't think…that Kuroko is in trouble?"

"Trouble?"

"Definitely! He's been distracted for a while! Maybe he ran in with some bad people!"

Well, this thought had not even occurred to Midorima. Kuroko in trouble? Out of everyone at this club, grudgingly, he'd admit the bluenette was the most reasonable person around. "No, that wouldn't be it," he said firmly.

"Oi, what are you two lagging around for?" Aomine barked at them, moving a couple of tables in the back. Midorima began to regret mentioning this as he watched Kise run to Aomine, begging him to help fight the people blackmailing their boss. Thus, the SOC club was born – also known as the Save Our Cutie Association – Kise invented the title.

But to figure out what was really wrong, it would be better to just look at the subject in question.

Kuroko was in turmoil. Ever since that Friday, he hadn't been able to think or act straight and it was killing him.

It had now been almost a full week since that meeting, and seemingly true to his apologetic sentiments, he hadn't once returned to the club or tried to contact him in any way. That just added to Kuroko's bind. He had two options. If he didn't call the mogul back, then Akashi would know that Kuroko didn't want anything to do with him – then he would have cut ties with him just like he had planned. But that would just be mean and cold. To lead on and then chop off relations with someone that has been cordial and kind. Not to mention impossibly irresistible.

No, Kuroko whimpered inside, burying his head deeper into his pillow. That was not at all part of the point. It didn't matter how nice or sweet Akashi Seijuuro was. He had taken advantage of him in a desperate moment…well, kind of. Kuroko altogether recalled how hard his nails had dug into Akashi's back, his tongue digger deeper into the mogul's throat, in the throes of ecstasy – no, that wasn't good either. He definitely couldn't think about that.

But on the other hand, if he did the right thing and did call like every respectable cell in him wanted to do, he was sure this wouldn't end. Something would happen, and Kuroko already knew that he couldn't trust his body to do anything that he wanted it to. He had already promised Kagami that he would be reasonable.

He had promised himself not to make any more mistakes. Not like last time.

"It's not a date. Not a date at all. So it's not a big deal – not a big deal." His delirious muffled mutterings continued as he scrunched the pillow to himself. A childish whine escaped his lips. He was acting so stupid over this guy. He wasn't even that special – repeatedly he told himself that. As long as he didn't picture him, didn't remember that smell, the way Akashi spoke or looked at him like he was the most precious thing in the world –

"Uh…is this a good time?"

Kuroko's head snapped back up. Aomine stood there, looking on uncomfortably as his boss talked into his emergency pillow. Quickly, the bluenette shoved the pillow away from him, tugging slightly his long sleeved shirt. "Of course, sorry, Aomine-kun. What is it?"

He handed him a pile of audits. "These just came in from Himuro." Kuroko nodded quickly. "Thanks."

The awkward pause continued for a few more moments. Clearing his throat, Aomine put up a hand. "Then, I guess I'll see you."

A surge of psychotic courage burst from Kuroko's lips. "Aomine-kun! Um – can I ask your opinion on something?" The larger man's eyes widened. "Yeah – sure. What's up, Tetsu?"

There was no use stopping now. "If – if you had a problem with someone…a complicated history with them. And they wanted to meet so that they could apologize about it. Every time you both meet though, you both just seem to clash. More problems could just occur if you went to see them again. Would you still go?"

Aomine's eyes darkened in thought, bulky form sitting in a chair on the other side of the desk. "Well…this person – they're trying to fix things, aren't they? That's better than leaving things as is, no matter what." He scratched his head plainly. Then, he shrugged. "Besides, both are trying to make things right. So even if you guys don't jive, you know it'd be stupid to set something off again. It'd be a waste not to take the chance."

Hearing Aomine's simple reasoning destroyed what crumbling resolve Kuroko had left. "Yes…you're right." Feeling relieved that he seemed to have helped in some way, Aomine got up. "Are you having dinner with us before we open?"

"Yes…I'll be right out." He received a shrug in response. "Alright. Kise's buying."

As soon as the door clicked shut, Kuroko pulled out his phone and the business card. With the days of endless staring, the card had become worn with treatment. The mogul's smooth writing had been analyzed for hours on end recently. Even though Kuroko must've checked the number and email he had added to his cell hundreds of times, he still did it again as he typed in the brief message, stomach in knots over itself, binding whatever butterflies underneath from escape.

_This is Kuroko Tetsuya. I'm free this Tuesday, at ten if that is fine with you._ Shutting his eyes and sending a ridiculous prayer to the high heavens, he pressed send.

Don't answer quickly. Don't answer quickly. Please don't answer quickly.

He had just stowed away his pillow when a dreaded chime came along, barely a minute later.

_That sounds perfect, where should I meet you?_

It was only then that Kuroko realized with a sinking feeling that he should've used his e-mail. Now he didn't have an excuse for not responding quickly! Also, Akashi could call him now whenever it fancied him – how could he have been so stupid? It was too late for regrets though. Taking a calming breath to suppress his increasing hyperventilation, he replied back.

_Where are we going to eat? I can just meet you there._

A few more tense moments passed and there was another ding.

_It is rather far. I have a place I'd like to take you, my treat. Could I pick you up anywhere?_

Well, the most convenient place would be at his apartment. But that was definitely not going to happen. Already regretting this entire thing, his mind raced for a logical spot. Well, the supermarket was just stupid, even though it seemed they both lived near each other. That thought alone made Kuroko's heart do backflips.

If they went to Maji's, did that seem normal? To meet up at a diner to go to another restaurant? And the club was definitely off limits. He didn't need Momoi and Kise seeing him get picked up by Akashi in some fancy sports car.

_Do you know the Konawa Park at the corner 8__th__ and Kanbara? We can meet at the basketball courts._ A park. That was safe. It was near his apartment, so likely it meant it was close to Akashi's as well.

The next ding took over a minute. Kuroko's heart began to sink slightly when the ding came once more.

_Sounds great. I'll meet you at 10 am._

Good lord. What did he just do?

* * *

Kuroko felt like a fool. For the first time in almost a year, he had taken off a full day of work. Leaving the club in Kotaro's and Himuro's hands yesterday, he had tried to get as much sleep as he could, something that was almost impossible seeing the state of frenzy his heart was in. Also, he had not slept a full night through for months, so it was even worse than having UK jetlag.

At seven AM, he had given up on the pretense of lying in bed. Raiding his closet, the boy began his search for something to wear to this idiotic makeup luncheon. Which was not a date.

Damn it, it was not a date.

Finally, he had decided on something that seemed to fit the cool sixty degree weather that day. He donned one of his favorite sweaters, a pure white turtleneck, cashmere and soft to the touch. It always comforted him when he had it on, fitting tightly to show the smooth curves of his body as much as it was conservative. A dark pair of jeans contrasted perfectly, and a light brown pair of corduroy boat shoes.

He was there ten minutes early to the meeting spot, walking around the courts beforehand like a vulture scouting territory. Kuroko hated how he was acting, like a girl – and a frivolous one at that. But he couldn't help it any more than he could stop himself from the fears that began to crop of in his head. What if this was just another trap, just like the last time? But it couldn't be. The head of _Lights_ was a different person than the boy that he had been those years ago. Wiser, smarter, more wary.

A lone ball rolled on the court, bustled by the breeze. He picked it up gently, trying a layup, which didn't go in. Ah. Well, basketball had never been a forte of his, although he did like playing in middle school. A slightly smile graced his features before it fell. He continued playing to pass the time, forgetting about the worry that was plaguing him before the meeting.

On another failed shot, the ball bounced haphazardly off the rim and rebounding past Kuroko's head. He turned to run for the ball when there was a slight thunk. Kuroko froze. Akashi looked interestedly at the orange sphere in his hand for a moment. With a small smile, he jumped, the ball curving in a perfect arc, entering with a swish through the hoop.

"Afternoon," he greeted Kuroko. Kuroko swallowed and nodded. "Afternoon, Akashi-san."

Akashi was dressed similarly, a red long sleeve shirt topped with a loose black sweater. His dark grey pea coat made him look irresistibly beautiful. Kuroko could already feel his body reaching for the male god. "Let's get going?" the voice carried pleasantly.

Kuroko nodded. He followed Akashi to the familiar black Mercedes. Akashi went to the driver's side, leaving Kuroko to let himself in. It smelled like leather and something comforting, like a kind of oak wood plant. The bluenette liked it too much for his own good.

"Where are we going?" Kuroko asked quietly.

Akashi chuckled quietly as he reversed. "It's a surprise. But we're going to be going a bit into downtown. I hope that's okay?"

"That's fine." Everything had gone silent in the car, even his own voice. Inside, his body was being ripped apart like confetti, but on the outside, things were calm. Akashi drove deftly, weaving through the traffic without bother. Kuroko suppressed the desire to look around the car. This was the first time he saw anything truly personal of the red head and he was dying of curiosity.

"Thank you for responding to my invite. I know I'm not exactly the person you want to see," Akashi said.

Kuroko shook his head. "No, it's fine." He tilted his head towards Akashi. "I just didn't know what this was."

"Was?"

He nodded. "This…outing. What it meant." When the driver smiled, Kuroko couldn't help but feel warmer inside. "This is a peace treaty. To start fresh. If that's okay with you."

The sunlight shone through Kuroko's side, warming the left side of his face in a gentle glow, sending rays aflame on each strand of blue hair. He leaned on the window, taking in the sweet, warm smell. On his right, Akashi's presence forced him to bury his hands into his pockets. The attraction to him was palpable. In the small car, Akashi's cologne was beginning to spread a spicy, musky odor. His throat constricted as he barely got out the words.

"Yes. That is fine."

* * *

When they arrived, a valet waited patiently for them as Akashi handed them his keys. Kuroko's anxiety heightened as Akashi led him through the spacious forum, domed windows letting in light from every facet and onto the reflective marble floor. A fountain sprinkled elegantly in the form of obsidian fish.

"In here." Akashi pointed towards a gilded elevator. The bluenette tensed. It was painfully obvious where they were now. It was one of the most exclusive cafes of Tokyo, perched 180 stories above the ground, decked with an observatory tower and cigar parlor. Kuroko had heard of it from one of his many suitors, a young lady that invited him there for tea. Apparently she was a physicist with connections.

"Do you have an appointment, sir?" The seating host asked at the top. Akashi slid a card towards the host. "Akashi."

The man typed into the iPad and then bowed. "Yes, we have your table, Akashi-sama. Right this way." Kuroko once more followed as they went through the French doors into a sleek modernesque dining room, full of abstract circle and rectangle cuts in the ceiling and walls. Delicate sakura plants decked the curved white stairwell. They climbed higher, past dashing businessmen and women with pearls around their neck.

The second floor was much smaller, an atrium with pieces of railing littered around. As they neared an empty table decorated with a single orchid, Kuroko slowed to take a seat when Akashi turned, giving him a brief smile. "This isn't our table."

The host led them further. As they reached the glass doors he pushed out, onto the balcony into the windy air, hundreds of feet above the ground. A shallow breath escaped Kuroko's lips. The balcony was surrounded in flowers in boxes elevated to the height of his elbow. It was a rainbow around him, peonies and daffodils that waved slightly in the breeze. Distantly the sound of a flowing stream trickled over rocks in true Japanese fashion. At the edge a single table perched on a view below.

It was the most spectacular view he had ever seen. Windows shined like scales in the morning light like stars in splendor. The skyline spread out around them in a steel mosaic, the roads crisscrossing over each other in a tapestry of rubber.

"Please take your time and enjoy yourselves, sirs. Your waitress will be with you in a moment." He bowed and left them to the quiet. Kuroko still stared. Never had he seen anything remotely so amazing, nor had he ever been so high up.

"Do you like it?" Akashi asked, only a few inches behind him. Kuroko whirled around. "Yes…it's very impressive, Akashi-san."

The red head gave a brief grin before gliding back to his side of the table. "I'm glad. It's definitely awe inspiring to be sure." Kuroko eyed the man before sitting down hesitantly. Everything was perfect, beautiful and calm. Though they were so high, the sun warmed them gently so it wasn't cold. As Akashi ordered a set of herbal green tea, Kuroko's hands tightened on his napkin in his lap as he tried to scrounge for words.

"You didn't have to prepare something so extravagant," he muttered. "It was unnecessary."

Akashi shook his head. "Are you kidding? Someone recommended me this place weeks ago. Since I'd never been here before, it was the perfect time to try it out. My friend even gave me that card so that I could make this reservation. It's almost as hard to get in here as it is for your establishment." The thought that this place was just as novel to Akashi was comforting, but unease still gnawed at him. Akashi definitely didn't bring him here just as an apology. The thought just wrung his heart into more painful knots.

"Still unnecessary," he murmured.

The tea came beautifully presented. Akashi poured from an antique clay pot, cracked slightly at the edges in an elegant motion. Kuroko nodded in thanks, breathing in the herbal smell. It was calming here to be sure, even if the distracting presence of Akashi was putting his entire body on edge. Reality ceased to exist as they perched on the scaffold, watching the cars below zoom as slowly as ants.

"You must be taking time off of work to meet me. I'm sorry that I inconvenienced you." Kuroko shook his head. "No, you must be busy as well … to take this time off." The red head caught his eye, gazing into him like x-rays. "I was more than happy to."

The time passed slowly as they decided on their meals and chatted briefly on trivial topics. The bluenette couldn't seem to suppress the slight trembling in his fingers, constantly evading the red head's eye by staring at the skyline. It was stupid and Kuroko felt worse that he wasn't able to be as cordial as the mogul seemed to be towards him, but he didn't know how he could fix it.

"When I was little, my father would take me around the gardens at home. He said that to be well bred in all aspects, it also meant looking outside a little." Akashi shook his head with a sigh. "Be that as it may, it was an incredibly boring couple of hours every month." He got up, brushing the invisible bit of sauce off his lip with a cloth. "But, such knowledge does have its perks." He held out his hand expectantly.

Was he waiting for him? Confused, Kuroko lifted up his hand awkwardly, unsure whether to take the hand proffered. Akashi made the decision, grasping it firmly in his. They walked around the rooftop garden as he pointed at each plant, saying a little bit of each.

"These are my favorites. They're beautiful, but they're useful too." He pointed at a pale cerulean blossom. "Did you know if used in the right way, they can be both a medicine and a poison? I think that makes a plant much more impressive."

He plucked a stalk off, handing it to the bluenette. "For you."

Kuroko took it rigidly. His lunch partner continued to browse, rambling on amusedly about different things – the Japanese architecture used to design this patio, the calligraphy used on one of the marble benches. Everything he said was charming and lovely. The voice was resonant and smooth enough to rustle on the fragile surface of Kuroko's soul with a shiver. The heat from Akashi's hand was growing ever more, until he was beginning to feel the slight wetness of skin on skin.

"I thought that since you always work, likely you hadn't seen the city in the daytime for a while. Since it might be the only time, I wanted to show you–"

Suddenly, Kuroko couldn't handle it anymore. He pulled away, his hand stinging from the sudden cold of the air. "Akashi-san, this was amazing, but don't. Please. You should not waste your time. I can't give you what you want, so please stop." His voice choked slightly on the end.

The silence held in the wind for just a moment. Slowly, Akashi moved inched towards him. "And what do you think I want?" he asked gently.

Kuroko's mouth opened slightly. "Just – I mean…" he stuttered faintly. Akashi's hand rose, caressing a pale cheek. The touch was electric, and unconsciously Kuroko raised his head to stare into those hypnotic irises.

"Tetsuya. I know that you don't trust me. And that you don't open up to many people." Akashi's lips descended, brushing over Kuroko's gently. Their noses touched, both pink with cold. Every pore was open and exposed on Akashi's face, close enough to count. The sudden fragility in his face curled every hair standing. His breath came out lightly, colliding with his partner's in a sweet and erotic scent.

"And that's okay. But Tetsuya, I like you. And if you give me a chance, I want to know you better."

The blood pounding in his head began to roar, muting out every inaudible honk, frail eagle's cry, rushing louder than the stream surrounding them, like a dam about to break. Akashi stepped forward once more, brushing his fingers gently through the bluenette's hair. It felt like fire, coursing through his body, seeping through his skin.

"What do you say?" the word blew away into the void, lost among the clouds.

Kuroko stared into those hypnotic eyes for a moment. And then, the space closed between them, the heat rising around them as soft lips pressed against his own, enveloping them both heaven's embrace.

* * *

**We're just getting started, guys. As always, review. Chapters aren't going to write themselves - especially if I don't know if they are read by all of you. And in case I forget - Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and a Wonderful Winter to all of you. :) I hope your next year is full of good things and meaninful memories.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys. Merry Christmas, and I hope it's a wonderful holiday, celebrated or not. I really wanted to do something remotely worthwhile today, so here's another chapter. I'm sorry if it's not up to par, it's badly edited. I'm not really feeling too good right now - but please, enjoy this chapter. If you do, I'll also smile.**

**1/4/13 - Hey guys! I'm updating because of a major error - Akashi's birthday is in 1993 - meaning he would be twenty, not thirty. I'm sorry, but I hope that doesn't cause too much strain!**

* * *

When Kuroko opened his eyes, he found himself in an unfamiliar place. He shot up, heart racing frantically in his chest. He lay in a wide full sized bed, silver silk sheets slipping underneath his fingertips as he shifted. A matching grey comforter covered him lightly, falling to his waist in the sudden motion. A vase of lady slipper orchids sat elegantly on the shelf.

Anxiously, he began to pat himself down, forcing his lungs to take in deeper breaths as he calmed. Not a single piece of clothing was gone or anything out of place. A leather wallet and keys sat on the polished nightstand to his right. Running through the memories of yesterday, Kuroko scrounged for something that would hint to him what had happened before.

When their lips met on that rooftop, everything seemed to fall away. Every thought, every fear, every alarm he had so carefully crafted into his life melting like icicles in the summer sun. Instinctively, his body pressed itself against Akashi, his hands finding its way around his neck, pulling him down like an anchor, as if hoping it wouldn't just be a dream, another wish that floated away, leaving him to the harsh reality underneath.

Akashi reacted to Kuroko's eager motions, slipping his hands underneath the bluenette's azure overcoat, wrapping possessively around his slim sides. He massaged the soft flesh underneath the thick cashmere, making the smaller male hitch his breath, letting out the tiniest moan through their interlocked lips.

"Mmph," his voice muffled as their lips wrestled, lapping over each other in frenzied licks. The smacking sounds grew louder and Akashi's body grew even more restless with each erogenous whimper. Friction increasing between their shirts as the red head pushed Kuroko to the railing, their chests colliding as. In response, the boy grabbed his hair, wrenching it tightly at the impact. His tongue invaded deeper into Akashi's mouth and the mogul's arms almost went limp with ecstasy at the delicious movement the bluenette's organ, running over his teeth erotically.

Akashi latched onto Kuroko's bottom, heaving him up, and automatically, the boy complied, wrapping his legs tightly around his waist like a coil. Everything fell away as Akashi made his way further down Kuroko's neck, ravaging a deliciously soft point of skin, hearing the gorgeous gasps that escaped his partner's mouth in shallow pants.

The pleasure coursing through his body fueled Kuroko's desire even more. He took a deep breath, knocked out with the explosion of musk and spice that drove into his nose. Even more intoxicated by Akashi's presence than before his mouth bit down erratically, tasting a fistful of soft, damp hair on his tongue, the red head still suckling his neck in a fury.

"Akas-Akashi," Kuroko finally breathed out. In a moment, the mogul's lips were on his and they wrestled, each wanting to dominate the other, wanting more than they had before, wanting everything that they could touch, more than they could feel.

"Akashi," Kuroko pleaded once again, both of them breaking off for air, gasping as the stinging cold bruised the delicate tissue in their throats, their lungs still sucking in air like mad.

"Tetsuya," Akashi whispered. Kuroko's hands tightened on Akashi's shirt as smooth fingers slipped underneath his sweater.

"He-here," Kuroko pressed once more. "Not here –" Akashi paused, seeming to gain some perspective.

"…Yes." He breathed deep once more, sliding his hands around to Kuroko's back to support him. Gently, he brought him down to the ground, letting him rest his feet securely before letting go. Still, Kuroko's fingers held onto Akashi's shirt, seemingly unable to let go. His head pressed slightly against the taller male's chest, feeling the muscles ripple as it moved up and down, heart slowing unhurried.

Akashi seemed to notice Kuroko's unsteadiness. "Hey," he said quietly. When the bluenette didn't respond, gently he took the hands in his own. They were ice cold. "Hey. It's okay." He pressed his lips to the frozen digits before giving a chaste kiss to the pale cheek in front of him. Kuroko's body tightened, forcing himself to cease the trembling that threatened to erupt. The boy nodded robotically, prying his hands from the sweater with some effort. Akashi took the hand in his. "Let's warm up in the car."

And then they had drove back. But Kuroko couldn't remember a single thing after they had gotten in the car. A muffled clang came from outside the closed door. Kuroko's eyes widened, and slowly he got out of bed. The soft rug deflated underneath his weight in a light support. He padded around the room, avoiding the cold hardwood floors to look out the window.

Another beautiful view. The Tokyo skyline surrounded them vividly; a couple of familiar landmarks dotted the distance. This place must be a couple of blocks from where his apartment was. The louder clinking noises past the door brought him back to his situation at hand. Grabbing his wallet and keys, Kuroko braced himself and his trembling hand and opened the door.

A spacious living area greeted him. Perfect lighting scones decorated the wall on abstract sculptures. Pots of flowers gave the place a slightly warmer feel. He passed slowly past each article, running his hands and the expensive fabric. One of the plants he wandered across looked exactly like the flower that Akashi had plucked for him. That memory made him flush warmly.

And across a walled partition, plain as day was Akashi, seemingly stirring something on the stove. His back was to Kuroko.

So Kuroko was right, this was Akashi's apartment. Everything fit the mogul perfectly, like he would expect. Perfectly placed, but not exactly homey. The plants seemed to be the only sign of true living seeing that they would have to be watered on a routine basis to be thriving so magnificently. He drifted around the corner and into the kitchen.

Akashi turned slightly and noticing the bluenette, greeted him with a soft smile. "Evening."

"Evening…" Kuroko looked at the table. Two sets of food had been arranged, each across from the other. Rice, fish, sautéed spinach, and a plate of katsudon pork had been deposited into their bowls. A pot of tofu soup simmered on the stove.

There was a light laugh from the mogul, which Kuroko whirled around at. Akashi walked towards him, placing a hand on the top of his head. Just as he was about to protest the sudden contact, the hand began to move, adjusting and massaging the wild blue hair back into place. "You have a bit of a bedhead," Akashi chuckled.

Kuroko flushed. The deft digits felt good against his scalp. After a breathless half minute more, Akashi relinquished his hold. "There."

Kuroko felt his head. The hair was as smooth and docile as it had ever been, without a sign that it had ever been able to defy gravity like a bird. "How…did you do that?" he asked in incredulously. Akashi shrugged. "I'm guessing the same way that you do in the morning."

That definitely wasn't true. A good ten minutes of his day went to flattening down that hair – and in less than a minute without a comb, water, or any gel, Akashi had tamed the beast. Silenced, Kuroko watched as Akashi walking back to the stove.

The red head spoke as Kuroko continued to stare at the vision. "I know that you have to go to work – it's five o' clock, by the way," he added as Kuroko suddenly snapped his head around for a clock, "But since you hadn't eaten, it might be possible for you to eat here?"

Kuroko walked forward. The smells were nice, especially the tofu soup. It had a flavorful aroma to it. Maybe it was spring onions or some kind of spice. "How long have I been asleep…?"

"Maybe four hours. You fell asleep on the way back, but I didn't know your apartment number. I was just about to wake you."

"… Thank you," Kuroko murmured. "Ano … Do you need some help?" He felt quite useless standing in the foreign kitchen. In a hope of something to do, he washed his hands in the stainless steel sink. Akashi shook his head. "No, everything's basically done. Can you grab the bowls?"

Kuroko handed him the plastic bowls, and deftly the red head scooped the hot liquid into each. He followed Akashi to the table, not sure where he should sit. "Itadakimasu," Akashi recited, clasping his chopsticks together.

"Itadakimasu," Kuroko murmured, copying the same movement. Hesitantly, he picked up a piece of the pork and tasted it. The meat was juicy and soft, infinitely better than the one he made at home. For the moment, he reveled in the taste of home cooked food. He hadn't had someone cook for him in the longest time, except for the couple of times Kagami invited him over to his house.

The two of them ate in moderate silence – awkwardly for Kuroko although it seemed that his partner was very much at ease. The bluenette couldn't help but be hyper aware of the man across from him. Every movement he made, the way the hair brushed across his forehead, the way that he brought his chopsticks to his mouth was entrancing. Toned muscles rippled underneath the sweater with every action, making it obvious about the lean body he contained.

In response, Kuroko tried to eat as neatly as possible, taking every precaution of manners he could think of. Not once did he put his elbows on the table, or fail to use his napkin, which he used carefully so he wouldn't have to ask for another. He knew he was being stupid again – but it was becoming a habit around Akashi. Maybe he would never be able to act normally around the god.

After he was sure Akashi was almost finished with his food, the bluenette made his move. "Thank you for the food. I have to go, they'll be wondering where I am." Kuroko folder his napkin and stood up, giving a slight bow. Akashi gazed at the boy for a moment. "Do you need a ride?" he asked, collecting the bowls.

"No, I can just walk from here," said Kuroko, taking up his own plates.

"You know that it's dangerous to walk alone at night," Akashi pointed out.

"I usually have pepper spray. And I know self-defense," Kuroko answered.

"Hm." Their hands brushed over the same bowl and Kuroko's hand jolted back, as though he had been burned. Akashi took the bowl after a brief moment without any mention.

"If you're really sure, then. But call me if you change your mind."

Kuroko placed the bowls in the sink. "Do you have a bathroom?" Akashi pointed to the right wall. "Just down the hall."

"Thank you." He left, letting out a breath that he hadn't known was being held. Splashing water on his face, he ran through things. So, Akashi had confessed that was certain. And right after, he had kissed him back. Yes. That did happen.

So … what did that make them now? He dried his face thoroughly on a face towel. Were they … boyfriends now? That thought turned Kuroko a dozen shades, fading into white. No, Akashi made no such promise – he hadn't either. And they weren't friends…he tightened onto the fabric. Friends. Did Kuroko want them to just be friends anymore? The thought still plagued him when he entered the main room again.

"I'll be going now, thank you for everything." He slipped on his shoes and was just collecting his coat when a hand grabbed his, spinning him around. A pair of lips pressed against his softly. After a long moment, Akashi pulled away. Kuroko stood in a haze, hand frozen on the knob.

"So…so, we're –" he whispered vaguely. Akashi bent down and kissed him again, and this time, Kuroko responded, widening his mouth to deepen the kiss, his body drowning in sweet sensations. The next time they parted both their cheeks were flushed and warm.

"Dating, yes," Akashi murmured. Kuroko nodded, his lips pulling at the corners unbidden. An inexplicable happiness surged through him, and it was wonderful. "Okay," he said, smiling stupidly.

Akashi prodded his face. "I like it when you smile," he laughed. Kuroko blinked. "Eh?" Akashi poked him again, more playfully than before.

"This is the first time I've seen you smile," he said.

It took a moment to swallow this piece of information. "Really?" Kuroko echoed in disbelief. Sure, things had admittedly been … heated between them – bouncing from one extreme to the other, but never smiling? He digested this statement bemusedly as Akashi laughed at his adorable expression.

"You're going to be _late_," Akashi reminded him. Kuroko jolted back to life. "Oh, shoot –" He grabbed his coat and opened the door.

"You really should let me drive you," he called out to the bluenette, who was now waiting at the elevator, conveniently only a few feet from Akashi's door. If anything, the red head had probably done that on purpose for easy access. Or maybe he'd planned this. Kuroko wouldn't put anything past this man anymore. This man that he was now dating.

Snappishly, with more fire than he would have used otherwise if he wasn't in such a giddy state he replied, "Like I need to hear the rumors and exclamations from everyone there if you drop me off."

"Well, it's not like they're far from base," Akashi's eyebrow raised, one hand above his head as he leaned on the doorframe. Kuroko paused, staring at the lithe form, those heterochromatic eyes that stared into his with intensity. The elevator dinged open.

He stepped in, Akashi disappearing from view as he did. As the doors closed, he murmured quietly. "No. They're not." The light disappeared and the shaft descended. Akashi grinned.

* * *

When Kuroko walked away from the penthouse, towards the distant setting sun, it began to sink in what a terrible mess he had just gotten himself into. So – he and Akashi were dating. A slight thrill ran through his entire body at the thought, making him feel slightly giddy afterwards. But…what happens now? Everything had happened so fast that they hadn't even set any plans, made any boundaries. Was he supposed to call Akashi? Were they supposed to talk every night like… a mushy teenage couple?

The only experience in love lives were anything he witnessed in high school – and when you worked in a nightclub, the kind of relationships that went to the 'next level' there weren't exactly the best role models for success. The smoky breath that left his lips dissipated into tiny wisps as they sprung to life, reflected off a streetlamp.

Would Akashi really be the mushy kind? He didn't think so. But he didn't seem like the kind for just a pop-and-go conversation either. Likely, he was a very busy person anyway – and so was Kuroko, the bluenette tried to remind himself. They wouldn't have much time to do anything, and seeing how Kuroko was a nocturnal worker, they wouldn't be able to meet up anyway. What was Akashi's schedule like? Should he have asked?

Kuroko paused in the street, staring down at his soft shoes, a single quizzical thread hanging loose on one side. Now that he thought about it, he didn't know anything about Akashi. What exactly did he do? How old was he? Did he have any family or friends?

Calm down, he told himself. He shook his head, as if trying to toss out any crazy ideas before restarting his march. A couple walked by him, both of them checking him out before looking away quickly, trying to not be noticed by their lover. Kuroko didn't know that little about him. For one – with Akashi's looks, he couldn't be over 22, even if he was that old. The powerful aura that radiated from the man made him look impossibly ethereal, without age or reality holding him down. The manager squinted in concentration to clear the memory of the fogginess and adrenaline that was coupled with every image of the red head.

The mogul was lean and slightly muscular, but not bulky. That would mean he works out, a healthy routine. A gym? For some reason, Kuroko didn't see Akashi in a gym. He wouldn't want to just talk to simply anyone.

Another surge of embarrassment flushed across his cheeks. How did he assume that anyway? It just seemed right to him, he reasoned. With another click of his tongue and tightening of his coat around him, he kept going.

So, no gym. Then, he exercises outside. Well, Kuroko liked exercise. Although he didn't do that much anymore because of his job, there was just never any time in the day, but still. He could like it.

"Good grief," he muttered darkly, knocking the flat of his palm lightly against his forehead. He was already inviting himself to the imagined workout routine of someone he just … got together with. How much stupider could he get?

As used to the roads as he was, Kuroko's legs brought him almost unbidden to the back door of _Lights_. One more step, and he'd be back in his normal job, among the noise and work with those most familiar to him, where nothing had changed. But of course, everything had changed now.

He took a breath, shutting his eyes for some comfort before unlocking the door. The key clicked heavily as it opened. "Kurokocchi!" Kise's weight collided into Kuroko's unsteady form and they both stumbled back, almost knocking into the closing door. "Kise-k-kun…" Kuroko muttered, trying to shove Kise further away.

"Kise-kun, get off of him," Midorima snapped, pulling at Kise's ear. The stripper shrieked, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "Kuroko-kun has never been this late before! What if someone had kidnapped him? He's too adorable to be ignored!"

"If he did get kidnapped, you are the last person that someone would want on the case for his retrieval," Kotaro added, advancing into the narrow hallway. "Hey, Kuroko-kun. You're late. Are you still feeling bad?"

"Ah, no. I'm much better, thank you." Kuroko gave the second in command a slight nod. Kotaro waved it off with a shrug. "Alright. Well, we already ate dinner, but Momoi-san saved you some. And if worse comes to worse we can always steal from Murasakibara's food stores," his smile grew wickedly at this thought.

"I already ate on the way here, thank you," he said.

"Are you going to do inventory before we open, Kuroko-kun?" Midorima asked.

"Mm. Just give me a minute, I'll get on it," Kuroko answered, moving past Kise, who was still being pinched hard on the lobe.

It was difficult for him to concentrate on anything that night. After he finished the inventory, with barely a word, for fear he would just blurt out everything to anyone that walked in, he ran over a few marketing ideas for the club that Himuro had sent over, marking them over with a red marker that reminded him too much of Akashi's hair. It was when the club finally opened that Kuroko could finally escape to his office, beginning work on making the schedule for next week, relieved that finally he could stew in the chaos of emotions that was his mind.

Forgoing the times chart, he went online. Feeling like an idiot, but not knowing what else to do, he typed into the search bar: Akashi Seijuuro. Then he pressed enter.

69 million results pulled up. Kuroko clicked the first link, looking promising enough.

_Akashi Seijuuro _(born December 20, 1993)_ is a Japanese business magnate, entrepreneur, and investor. He is best known for being the young CEO and chairman of Akashi Incorporated, and son of the co-founder Akashi Fuyuhiko. He rose to take over his father's position in the company after his untimely heart attack in March 19, 2012, and recently has propelled the company to be the largest growing conglomerate in Japan, buying large shares into entertainment and computer industries, including _Kyoto Animations_ and collaborating with other producers on gaming and computer software. Internationally, Akashi an umbrella corporation in charge of over 20 companies _including Intel, Pixar, Kadokawa, and Animate_._

_Akashi Seijuuro is ranked in Forbes list of Wealthiest Billionaires at 61 in 2012 with a net worth of $14.2 billion, and is on the board of directors at Apple Inc. and Microsoft amongst major shareholder positions in other companies _(see below for known list)_. He was listed as Japan's most eligible bachelor of 2012 in…_

Additional links were jotted lower on early years, career, philanthropy and personal life among other things. It took all of Kuroko's discipline to close out after a couple of scrolls. If he learned all about someone, he didn't want to do it over the internet. Although he told this to himself painfully. Inside, his head screamed at him to get more information about him, to make sure he knew enough about this man that he was suddenly dating, that he was suddenly kissing, suddenly feeling all these emotions for.

He cracked open his door, the heavy beat vibrating through the air. He slipped into the break room, relieved to find Momoi alone. "Momoi-san," he greeted. The girl waved back at him happily, getting a foot massage from the machine that all of them shared – and sanitized weekly. Everyone agreed that high heels and dancing on stage took a toll on the body, and so the break room was quite a luxurious feature. It needed a code to unlock, and inside had a giant fridge decked out with popsicles, ice cream, yogurt and fruit. A massage chair and stereo hookup sat beside the plush couches. Speakers hung on all sides of the wall, giving a surround sound for the plasma that bolted on the widest wall. Two giant ottomans were stuffed until spilling of fluffy blankets and stuffed animals, making the place as cozy as can be. The connecting bathroom just finished the complete paradise of their little break room.

Aomine always said that if there was an earthquake, heaven forbid, the Miracles and their managers could all just bunk here, and they would never starve for weeks on end, with Murasakibara keeping this place well stocked as ever. Kuroko never said anything, but at times like this as he looked at the cozy and comforting space, he couldn't help but agree.

"You alright, Tetsu-kun? You look out of it." She sat up, concern written on her face. Kuroko nodded. "I'm fine. Thank you." The girl smiled at him warmly. "Shall I get you some vanilla cocoa?"

"Do you know how to make it?" he asked, watching her go to their expensive Keurig coffee machine. With a shrug she replied, "Well, I've tasted yours enough times to kind of devise my own. Of course, nothing can beat your vanilla cocoa. Maybe you'll finally tell someone how you make it, huh?"

"Maybe," Kuroko replied.

The peaceful gurgling put his mind slightly at ease as he tried to figure out his next plan of action. Ignoring all of the information that he had just read – it was obvious enough that Akashi was rich. He didn't need to know how much to be sure of that. What should he do? Maybe text him a hello? Did that seem too clingy afterward? An e-mail seemed extremely cold and Kuroko rejected the idea of a call. Who knew what he might be doing or if he was busy?

Suddenly, he wondered if Akashi took a day off when Kuroko fell asleep in his car. Did he have work to do after their lunch meeting? Did he have to cancel something important? Suddenly he wanted to ask.

A cup of warm chocolate was stuck underneath his nostrils. He bristled at the sudden heat prickling his skin. "You _are_ thinking about something, aren't you?" Momoi asked. Kuroko bit his tongue.

"It's nothing you need to worry about," Kuroko murmured. She sighed, sitting down next to him. They sipped the sweet chocolate. "You keep too much to yourself. I know I – and everyone else – am a little eccentric. But you can trust us with anything. I think that we've been very good with things, all accounts considered."

Momoi's kind tone made Kuroko want to just spill out everything. But after all, he knew that she had a crush on him – she and the rest of the club. Was it even fair to say anything about this to them? Would they react badly to it? Pushing aside his selfish thoughts, he let himself trust in Momoi's earnest gaze.

"Akashi…Akashi-kun and I are dating…now." Momoi's mouth dropped, forming the smallest of ovals. Her pink eyes widened just slightly in shock. Kuroko looked away from the scene. "It's new," he said shortly. "Just today," he muttered.

Momoi shut her mouth quickly. "Is – that what you want?" she asked finally. Kuroko sipped the chocolate, despite the fact that it burned his tongue. His fingers were beginning to tingle, wishing to block his head from her gaze, and just bury himself under pillows – run out of the room so Momoi could stop staring at him. "…Yes," he murmured, his cheeks beginning to redden despite his efforts to quell it. Momoi's mouth began to curl at the edges. "Then, I'm happy for you, Tetsu."

Kuroko nodded, taking another sip, still avoiding her gaze. Momoi shifted excitedly. "So, you're thinking of him?" she proffered. He shook his head slightly. "I'm... worried. I realize how little I know about him. We never exactly talked about it – what it was. Should I call him? Or…visit him?" Momoi's gaze was controlled as he yammered on, not noticing the information he was revealing in such frenzy to his friend. "How would he react if I went to talk to him? Does he expect dates? Or does he not want to spend that much time with me? I just –" he broke off, hands tightening on the couch.

Suddenly, a hand tightened around his arm. Kuroko turned to Momoi, who was beaming beautifully. Momoi was a beautiful person, not because of her body or just her face. But she was kind and honest all around, which was something Kuroko always treasured about her. He knew he could trust her with truths, and know she would keep them safe.

"Kuroko, he likes you. And I think – we all believe," she amended, "That he really likes you. He cares about you. And it's you. So no one would not meet you and know how special you are." Her eyes shined as she drew nearer to him. "So, whatever you do, and whenever you tried to talk to him, isn't going to be a bother. Not if he really likes you. So don't be afraid anymore. He's not going to push you away. Okay?" Her voice whispered fiercely, full of faith and fire.

The bluenette's body flushed and finally, he smiled. "Thanks, Momoi-san." At the words, she pounced, hugging him tightly around the waist. Kuroko hugged her back this time. "You have to call me Satsuki one day," she said. "Especially after you have someone now."

"It'll have to be a little while longer," Kuroko murmured, the old phrase feeling natural falling from his lips. But this time, he said it happily, just enjoying the moment. Momoi was a good friend, a beautiful dancer, and a wonderful companion. He would enjoy every moment he had with her.

"Oi – Satsuki, what are you doing?" Aomine asked gruffly. Momoi turned to him, beaming. "Tetsu-kun –" She stopped suddenly, looking to Kuroko. "Ano…Tetsu-kun says he likes my vanilla cocoa the best!" The stripper snorted at that, pulling on his dark navy robe, hanging from a peg on the wall. "I've had your cocoa – it tastes more like caca."

"Daiki!" she growled, holding up a fist to the man, easily twice as large as her. They were beginning to bicker when suddenly a musical laugh broke over the room. Stunned, they both turned to the couch. Kuroko clasped his hand to his mouth, trying to hold it in. "Sorry. But –" His face changed, softening at the edges of his eyes, the crinkles easing into a joyful expression. "I'm glad you are my friends."

And as both dancers blushed furiously, Kuroko sipped his drink, the time of waiting over, temperature of the beverage now perfect for drinking.

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**Thank you for reviewing, all that have done so. For all that have never - thanks for reading. I hope you like this, even if I never get to hear it.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello my lovelies! Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! I know that a lot of you have been asking about Kuroko's past and when it will be revealed - I promise that it's coming! No one wants you to know more than me - I even wrote a few thousand words on Kuroko's flashback because I just couldn't hold it in anymore - it's going to be intense! But before that, our two hotties need to get a little closer. I hope you will bear with me until then.**

**Part way through this chapter I gave up editing because it was just too awful - so, I hope you enjoy everything even if it bad! Some nice mood music for you: "The Reason Why" by The Click Five! Thank you for always sticking with me and reading this.**

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In the next few of weeks, Kuroko learned two things. One – that Akashi Seijuuro was either part omniscient being (angel or demon – although Kuroko leaned towards the latter) – and possibly the nearest to perfect person in the world. Two – that he had never known how hard he could fall for someone in so short a time.

That morning after Momoi and Kuroko had their heart to heart, the manager now packing up his laptop, convicted with a new spirit to finish the schedule for next week, his cell chimed. He slid the bar, figuring it was from one of his staff about last minute emergencies when his heart leaped about ten feet in the air.

_Good morning, Tetsuya_.

Akashi had only texted him three words, but Kuroko was now in a panic.

It was just a simple greeting. Don't go overboard with thinking this is an opening to text him twenty four seven. Besides, the bluenette tried to remind himself yet again, he was also a busy person. He didn't have the time to talk like some middle schooler. For some reason, as he stared at the text, that logic seemed weaker and weaker.

Kuroko took a breath, and texted back. _Good morning, Akashi- _he stopped. "San" sounded too formal now. No, it definitely wasn't good to do that. Goosebumps began to prickle along his skin. _Good morning, Akashi-kun._

He let out a breath and waited.

There was another ding a few long moments later.

_How was your night? Anything interesting happen?_

Kuroko thought about this for a moment. Well… there was a group of businesswomen from America that did go drunk and begin confessing secrets to Aomine, who wasn't as good at fending off their advances as one would hope. But that wasn't exactly interesting, was it? It seemed trivial at best, especially with what Akashi did every day.

His thoughts went back to Momoi's words. He typed back.

_Some drunk businesswomen began to confess to Aomine their many adulteries to their husbands. Aomine handed out more tissues than lap dances for about an hour._

Ding.

_For some reason, that is extremely amusing. I'm sure Aomine spoke some wise words?_

Kuroko's mouth twitched up. He replied quickly.

_He gives pretty good advice when it comes down to life choices._

Akashi replied a full minute later. Ding.

_If only he had been paid a psychologist's salary for three sessions._

Kuroko grinned. _Actually, they paid him even better than that. A thousand dollars for the two hours. And they bought the drinks._

Ding. _Maybe you should change your club to a psych office._

His fingers typed too quickly – typos began to run through his words, popping up with strange characters. Calming himself, he closed his eyes before trying again.

_I thought it already was._ He pressed send.

He waited for a reply, but after three minutes nothing came. Kuroko swallowed, pushing the nonsensical disappointment and slight panic that filled him. It really didn't mean anything that he was late in replying. Obviously everyone was busy. They can't hang around texting all day, if not that would mean calling. Which Kuroko had already decided not to do. Obviously.

Resolutely packing up his computer bag, he waved a passing goodbye at the workers still here, accepting a bit of homemade chocolate from one of the very nice elderly Japanese cleaning ladies, and headed towards home. He ran through a mental checklist of things that he had to do for the coming week as he walked back home. Soon as he opened the door, a friendly bark echoed through the living room, followed by the scamper of little steps.

The Alaskan malamute hopped onto the slick hardwood floors of the small foyer, skidding to a stop in front of Kuroko. With a fierce wagging of his tail the puppy barked happily, beaming in both relief and joy at seeing his owner.

Kuroko bent down and massaged Nigou's fur thoroughly. A pleased panting escaped the pup's throat pleasantly. "I'm sorry I was gone for a while. You're hungry, huh?"

Another affirmative bark bounced off the walls and he laughed, dropping his bag onto the hook. As Kuroko placed his keys and wallet into the iron wrought bowl on his right, a flashing light on the cell caught his eye. His eyes widened. Immediately, the bluenette snatched the phone up and unlocked it. Akashi's name blinked up at him – twenty minutes ago.

Frantically, Kuroko opened up the text.

_Sorry about that. I'll be gone for the next few hours for some meetings. Call you at three thirty?_

Funny. That was the time he woke up every day. Kuroko's mind trailed along the idea. To be woken up by the sound of Akashi's voice. His face flushed.

That night, the bluenette kept himself as preoccupied as possible. He reread most of _Ender's Game_ – a torn up copy that had been rifled through many a time before this one. He cooked for himself and Nigou – including some special leftovers that the pup would like for breakfast the next morning. Additionally, he made a bento to bring to work. The last few days the manager had gotten used to accepting the multitudes of food that Murasakibara liked to spoil him with and a healthy seed of guilt was beginning to sprout.

At a very late time of ten AM, finally Kuroko felt exhausted enough to go to sleep without much energy to worry. Nigou snuggled into the soft blue hair as they slept together, cuddled up as the sun kept rising higher into the sky.

A soft ringing filled the air. Kuroko's eyes fluttered open, wincing at the rays of light piercing through the open ends of his curtains. The ringing continued to echo through his room. Nigou whimpered and nuzzled his snout deeper into his master's fuzzy head. Reaching out of his warm down comforter, Kuroko groped for the phone, grabbing it hastily from its perch on his nightstand. He flipped it open without much thought.

"Hello?" he asked groggily.

"You sound quite awake," Akashi noted pleasantly, his smooth voice piercing through the bluenette's body like liquid nitrogen. Kuroko shot up, making his head swirl dangerously around him. "Akashi-s-kun!"

"I'm sorry that I woke you. I could have tried a later time if you had wanted." He sounded a little perturbed at the thought of the disruption he could've avoided.

Kuroko shook his head, although that made him only need the support of the bed even more. Nigou tilted his head worriedly, wondering what was with the sudden movements of his best friend. "No, it's fine, I actually have an alarm set for this time –" And true to his word, a sharp trill shot through his ear. He hissed, trying to disable the alarm without hanging up, knowing that on the other line, Akashi was hearing every moment of his pitiful state.

Finally succeeding, pressed his ear to the phone again. "Akashi-kun? Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm here," he answered.

"I'm sorry about that, it was just my alarm," Kuroko said, slipping out of bed. "Are you busy right now?"

Akashi replied, "No, I finished all my talks for the day. One more call at five and I'm done."

Sliding his closet open as quietly as he can, he sifted the rack for something to wear that night. "And… everything went well at work?"

The mogul's tone sounded a bit amused as he replied cordially, "Very well, thank you. I was able to get everything done that I wanted to. After a while, you realize being the head of any company is more tedious and less glamorous than one would think."

"Ah…that's good." Kuroko's throat tightened at the sudden loss of words. He picked out a carefully ripped tank top and halter mid-riff sweater. The hangars hung limply at his side as he groped. "Ano…"

"Yes?"

Kuroko hadn't expected Akashi to answer his blank exclamation. Now his mind truly ran in circles, trying to figure out something to say that would follow his strange grunt of before. "Ah…well…"

Suddenly laughter burst on the other end. It sounded like chimes, refreshing and lighthearted. The boy's eyes widened even more. His hairs rose up on the ends of his arm. "What? What is it?" he asked frantically.

"Nothing…I'm sorry, Tetsuya. I'm very sorry." Akashi's end quieted into a muffled chuckled, probably as the red head tried to cough to mask his enjoyment. "You just sound so unlike yourself when you're flustered. I just couldn't help but keep it going. It's adorable."

A long silence held in the air as Kuroko swallowed this piece of information. In his ear, Akashi's voice sighed contently. The closet door slammed with a thud. It echoed through the walls and made Nigou run into the other room in fright.

"Is that so?" Kuroko asked. His voice was cool and dark as of old.

"Absolutely. You're just like a little kitten to just hug and nuzzle. It obviously is too enticing to just leave alone."

Kuroko walked through his house, turning on the faucet to boil some water. The sound was loud in the quiet apartment. He didn't care if he made any noise now. "It's a shame that you think that way."

"Is that so?" Akashi asked.

The fridge slammed. "Yes. It is," Kuroko said.

"And why is that?"

The stove heated up as he unwrapped a piece of fish from its plastic. "Because if you just want an innocent little boy, then you'll get just that."

It was now Akashi's turn to fall silent. Kuroko washed his hands and laid the piece of mackerel carefully on the skillet. It sizzled happily as Nigou ate some leftover chicken in a bowl on the floor.

"What does that mean?" he said carefully.

"Well, little boys definitely don't talk to strange people. They don't dress in anything too provocative. That would be disturbing."

A little bit of rice swished inside the bowl before it was rinsed out for new water. Kuroko set the cooker to quick steam before adding a bit of seasoning to his fish.

"What else don't they do?" the voice on the phone was controlled.

"They like being cooked for. And they like big fluffy sweaters. And blankets. And they definitely don't kiss anyone." Kuroko added. "They would definitely _never_ make out with anyone."

"I see." Akashi seemed to grin on the other end. "And am I speaking to a child right now?"

"I don't really see the need to grow up," Kuroko replied nonchalantly. "There's no one that really catches my attention around here."

"It sounds like a huge shame," the red head lamented. "I'll definitely have to try to change that."

"We'll see," Kuroko said. And he smiled, tightening his hand on his cell. Nigou stared at his owner curiously. The light that emanated from the male above him was unlike anything he had seen before. And he liked it.

"Yes," Akashi answered. "You will."

He didn't have to wait too long to see the results of their conversation. When Kuroko left from work the next morning, it was still dark. The morning dew was still brewing in the five o'clock hour and it was chilly to boot as the winter air came in, threatening new snow to come in, along with the holiday season.

As soon as he shut the back door with a heavy thud, a hand pulled at him from the back. The bluenette swirled around, ready to attack with a heavy punch when the fist was easily caught, unfurling the digits wide to interlock them in a gentle embrace.

"Shh," Akashi whispered, reaching closer. "It's just me." The manager let out a small breath, the fog releasing from his mouth. His cheeks reddened slightly as he felt the heat of their bodies together, pressed in the small space. The only light flickering was a single bulb above the door, throwing them in heavy cast shadows.

Akashi pressed a single white chocolate into Kuroko's hand. "Come with me?" he whispered sweetly into Kuroko's ear, the breathy words running goosebumps over Kuroko's nape. "I have candy."

In a voice just as soft, his body aware that it was still pressing hard against his lover, Kuroko murmured, "And you think that's enough for me to follow a stranger?"

"You're right. I also have ice cream," he grinned slightly as he spoke. "And breakfast."

His blue eyes locked with the heterochromatic irises in front of him. "Maybe," Kuroko said. Eyes flashing, the red head bent down for a kiss, but caught only his cheek as the bluenette turned. "Definitely not convinced yet," he whispered.

Akashi chuckled, trailing his nose up his face gently. Teasingly, he bit Kuroko's ear. With a gasp, the boy stepped back, only for the mogul to pull him forward into a tight hug. "I'll wait," he hummed. Kuroko's throat tightened and he closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around him, letting himself fall into the sweet warmth. Just for a moment.

As Kuroko sat in Akashi's car, for the second time in three days to Akashi's home, he looked worriedly at the clock. "Akashi-kun…is this a little early for you to be up?"

He shrugged in reply. "Not really. I usually get up at this time, five AM or so. There's a lot to do and I don't need that much sleep. Specifically, today I was up just a little earlier than usual if that's what you're asking."

"That doesn't seem very healthy." Kuroko frowned.

"Well, you're being very adult for such a small boy. But thank you for the concern. If it really gets too bad, I promise, I'll get some sleep." He tossed Kuroko a crooked smile.

"Hmph." He turned back to the window, but kept silent, still thinking of the time constraints in his new lover's schedule.

"And here we are." The high wrought gates slid open for Akashi's car. Kuroko had passed the garage when he was leaving, but it felt strange to be entering this way – the first time he had been unconscious. Akashi led him out of the car and up to his room – floor 55, the highest one in the complex.

When he entered the room, the entire apartment was filled with a comforting scent, the smell of fresh fried rice and eggs overwhelming him at the entrance. Kuroko walked into the kitchen, looming over the pots and pans, watching the translucent lids and the water droplets hovering over the tasty food. He was hesitant to touch anything that wasn't his but wondered if Akashi woke up extremely early to do all of it.

"You don't have to be so careful around everything," Akashi added, his hands on Kuroko's shoulders and giving a comforting squeeze. "I'm just inspecting everything," he sniffed. "It looks like you put a lot of work into it."

"I'm sure it'll be worth it," he replied, walking into the living room. Kuroko's body ran cold as he followed Akashi into the living room. "What do you mean?" he asked anxiously.

"Well if you like it, then it's worth it, right?" The tension slowly drained from his shoulders. "Right," he agreed.

Breakfast was a solemn affair, feeling very much like dinner had done two nights ago. Even though things had now officially changed between them, Kuroko couldn't help but feel paranoid. He did nothing that would be offensive as a guest and more than he'd have liked to, stared at Akashi's movements like a stalker.

The man across from his was relaxed as he ate but ever as dignified. Even his slouch looked damnably smooth, running in slender lines over his torso and arms like silk. Kuroko tightened his grip on his fork, feeling more rigid than ever.

"Would you like a drink?" Akashi asked after dinner, collecting bowls once more. "I have wine, gin, bourbon…?"

"Tea is fine," he answered. "Where should I put these?" Kuroko gestured to the utensils. Akashi pointed to the sink. "I usually wash them whenever I have the time. The dishwasher is a waste of time."

As Kuroko turned on the tap, he spoke into the silence, using the lines he had carefully planned out during dinner. But as he opened his mouth, Akashi brushed past him, the wind picking into Kuroko's hair. In the end, the words came out in a stutter. "So - where did you learn to cook?"

_Damn it_, he winced internally.

Akashi answered, "My father asked my cook to teach me. He always had this saying to have 'excellency in all areas' to be a worthy individual." As the kettle boiled, he pulled out an old Japanese teapot cracked around the edges. From what Kuroko remembered from his grandmother's lessons, the more age, the more valuable. He wondered how much Akashi's tea set cost.

"So, your father…seems like a very upright man," Kuroko treaded carefully.

"Well, he definitely had high standards. Only the best would please him, and not just being above everyone else. It had to be the greatest excellence that I could produce."

Kuroko scrounged for something subtle. "I'm sure your father is very proud of you now, though," he finally settled on, scrubbing the last bowl ridiculously slowly.

Akashi laughed as he took the squealing kettle off the stove. "Well, I think he was satisfied, but it's hard to say. Especially since…" Unconsciously, Kuroko had stopped scouring to listen for the next words. Which is why he jumped, the bowl almost falling out of his hands as Akashi's face suddenly invaded on his space, staring at him intently.

"You looked me up, didn't you?" he asked, staring intently at the boy intently.

Kuroko opened his mouth in shock. "What – no!" he exclaimed indignantly. "Why would I do that?"

"Well, you keep pushing on my father … like you know he's dead." Akashi didn't make a move as Kuroko took a step away; pulling the tap with him so he could wash his sudsy hands far from his friend. "You were the one that mentioned him in the first place!" he continued irritably. "I was just following the line of conversation!"

"Well, you still seem very unsurprised by it," Akashi replied, nonplussed. "And when I used the past tense you didn't even take any notice of it, like you were trying to be not too obvious."

"Even if I had mentioned it when you had mentioned it, then you'd just say that was proof that I had looked you up!" Kuroko retorted.

"So you did notice it before," he summarized triumphantly. "And admit it. You did research me, didn't you?" The spacious kitchen around them felt entirely too small as his eyes pierced into the bluenette, a small smile teasing to widen across his face. Kuroko could feel his face heating fiercely and his hand scrunched on the fabric of his pants. He tried to arrange his face into his usual impassive expression.

"I – only read a little," he spat out, voice clipped. A strangled cry escaped his lips when Akashi jumped him, tightening his hands haphazardly over the boy's shoulders. "What are you doing?" he cried, for the second time that morning.

"You were trying to get to know me," Akashi boasted. "You like me."

"Don't get so high and cocky over yourself," Kuroko hissed, shoving him off. "You're not that special." The red head simply leaned over him again. It was hard for the smaller boy to concentrate on his personal space as his body felt like it was writhing, feeling the rippling of Akashi's muscles over his back, the dense and hot breath that brushed over his nape in a tantalizing breeze.

"You like me," Akashi teased, nose brushing lightly over his ear.

Kuroko's control broke. He whirled around and slammed the mogul into the counter, pinning both hands on the surface. In one fell swoop, he surged forward, his lips clashing with Akashi's. The contact was dizzying, intense, and utterly addicting. The contact was all too quick even in the dragging moments of passion.

"Don't be so full of yourself," he whispered as they broke off. "I might like you. But only a little." A grin spread on Akashi's face against Kuroko's frown. He bent down to kiss the bluenette once more, much more briefly.

"I can live with that. For now." He reached behind him for the tray holding the steeped tea and cups. "I think it's more than ready now." It took a few blinks for Kuroko to realize that he was holding Akashi in place and he shifted off.

Akashi indicated to the couch and they both sat. Once again, Kuroko was uncomfortable – even worse after what had just transpired. It was the first time he had ever initiated a kiss. Not that it had been a bad one.

"Do you need sugar?" Kuroko shook his head as he accepted the cup. Akashi poured one for himself. They sat on either sides of the couch, a single cushion and pillow separating them. Even so, the air between them seemed to fizzle uncontrollably wild.

"To answer your other question, he died before I took over the company. So, I'm not sure if he was able to see the results he would've liked before he passed. You heard how he died, right?" Akashi said.

"A heart attack," Kuroko recalled. "I'm very sorry."

Akashi shrugged. "Thank you." A slight silence fell around the two of them. Kuroko tried the best to maintain his blank façade. Akashi sipped his tea as calmly as always. After almost five minutes of silence, the manager couldn't stand it anymore. "I'm sorry, but this is awkward. I can't concentrate on anything – you're too distracting!"

"Excuse me?" Akashi asked.

Kuroko covered his eyes with a hand. "I don't know what's going through your head! And I don't know anything about you! What are you thinking? Don't you feel uncomfortable as well?"

A sigh of relief escaped the mogul's lips. "I do."

"Good!" Kuroko said rather awkwardly. "So…so do I." Akashi pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "Okay. How about a Q&A session? We learn about each other in efficiently and calmly. You ask a question, then I ask one."

"That sounds manageable," Kuroko breathed out, his chest relaxing slightly. He took another sip of tea before asking. "Do you really cook every single day?" The thought had been plaguing him ever since he had arrived this morning.

Akashi shook his head slightly in admittance. "I don't. I can cook decently enough – and I do try to every couple of times a week. I usually order from a restaurant and keep it in the fridge for easy convenience. Although, I do make a lot of tofu soup," he added. "It's simple and delicious."

"Tofu soup…what kind?" Kuroko asked.

"Nope – my turn. You'll have to wait the next round." He gave a little smirk. "What's your top three favorite foods?"

Kuroko's mind pitifully reverted to Maji's at the mere question. "Vanilla milkshakes. I like things with vanilla really… but milkshakes are the best, especially at this one place – you've probably seen it, it's near here. Maji's." Akashi nodded thoughtfully as Kuroko went on. "After that…I don't really know. I like all things, really. There's not much I don't like…traditional Japanese foods are better than American I think." He waited for Akashi to nod once more so he knew that was good enough.

"Ano…most and least favorite food – and what kind." Akashi also replied immediately. "Tofu soup – it's the only recipe that I really tweaked myself from my cook's. And it's still my favorite." Kuroko remembered faintly of the taste of soft tofu the last time he had dinner here. He would have to be more observant hereafter. "Least…seaweed." The red head made a disgusted look on his face. "In all kinds. Sushi is tolerable."

"Even in the soup?" Kuroko asked once more, out of turn. Akashi simply shook his head. "All kinds. It's a slimy, despicable thing. It doesn't even have that much taste. I don't really see the point in it, except that someone wasn't rich enough to buy something that wasn't washed out of the murky sea water."

The bluenette forced down a small smile. He liked this – hearing preferences and such. It made Akashi seem more human, more reachable. And the faces that the mogul made were amusing to watch.

"Alright, my turn. Did you like my food on both days? You didn't eat that much." Akashi's face showed that this was the thing that had been bothering him more than anything. Kuroko was surprised. He didn't know that he had done anything wrong when eating. "No – it was delicious. I just don't eat that much in general. Aomine-kun and Momoi-san always mention it." All the staff at Lights had commented on it once at least in his three year employment at the club.

"No wonder you're so skinny," he noted. Kuroko sighed. "And I'll add you to the list telling me to increase my metabolism," he sniped.

Akashi grinned. "Okay, what next?"

Kuroko took a breath. "Did you… have to cancel work when I fell asleep the other day?" The mogul's smile faded a little. "Has that been bothering you?" The boy shifted uncomfortably. "A little…well?"

Akashi sighed. "Yes. I did. But it's not a big a deal as you think," he cautioned, palm outstretched in front of him as Kuroko's mouth began to open. "The meetings were just pushed back and everything was taken care of. I still worked when you were asleep and before I saw you. I really do wake up at around four am every day."

"I'm still very sorry," Kuroko said, shaking his head. "I didn't know – you could've woke me up if it was going to be an inconvenience –"

"If I'm going to be honest, it was partly selfishness on my part," Akashi interrupted loudly. "If I just woke you up, who knows if you would've left immediately and then where would we have been?" The bluenette pressed his lips together at this statement. "Besides, I was able to see you sleep and carry you in an elevator for fifty-five stories. If anything, I did it purely for my own benefit."

Now Kuroko had to glare at Akashi, who simply smiled innocently back. He reached for the teapot and refilled both their cups. "My turn again – what do you when you're not working? Any normal routine?"

The bitter scent helped him gather his thoughts. "Not much… sometimes I'll walk to the store for groceries before I go home if I need them. Mostly I walk straight home. Then, a bath and breakfast. I feed my dog – Nigou – and do any extra work if I have any but usually I don't… I read. A lot of reading. I have a television, but I don't use it very much. There's one anime I like, which is pretty rare – something…no Basuke. I don't remember the title. And sleep."

Kuroko shrugged, realizing how pitiful of a life it sounded like. "When I wake up, I feed Nigou and take him on a walk. Get dressed and leave. Then dinner back at Lights. It's nothing special."

Akashi didn't say anything but listened intently. The awkward air had softened to warmth, although the electricity never did disappear completely. "Ah – my turn," the manager realized quickly.

"What is your day like? Is it…very busy?" He didn't want to bother Akashi very much – and maybe this answer would also give more insight into how much he could talk to the male without being a burden.

The tea had gone cold enough that Akashi put down his cup, followed closely by his partner. "Wake up at 4 or 4:30. Shower and dress and breakfast, if I have time. I get work done before I leave for downtown and reach around 7:30. Usually things start with paperwork and calls – meetings traveling from place to place, there is a lot of traveling involved. Sometimes there are press engagements or philanthropy work. You have to be more than just a businessman, which sometimes goes on the backburner in order to be a decent figurehead. I get done maybe 6 or 7 on a usual day before driving home."

It wasn't much different from what Kuroko expected, but still, it wasn't much for him to go on. Still he nodded, as that was the end of his turn. "Go on," the bluenette proffered.

"Birthday?" Akashi asked.

"Ah – January 31st."

"1994?" he pressed.

Kuroko blinked, bemused. "Of course."

"Alright then. Your turn?" Although wanting to ask why there had to be clarification on the year, the smaller male continued. He suddenly grew very nervous. "How much…should I – we – talk to each other? I don't want to bother you…or anything like that."

Thing is, he couldn't very well ask how serious they were. The word 'serious' already had enough weight that he didn't want to scare Akashi off. Ironically enough, since only a week ago he would've been hoping to do exactly that.

Akashi smiled warmly at Kuroko. "How much should we see each other?" He reached across the sofa, sitting on the cold cushion that lay between them. Sliding his hands underneath Kuroko's, he squeezed them slightly. "I might not be able to answer right away…but naturally. Texting is best, I suppose – since we don't know much about each other's schedules. I'm free to call at night after 9 pm mostly – and I suppose you're in the morning and afternoon. No pressure. We can meet up, or decline if we're busy. Obviously we don't know much about each other yet."

He slid closer until there was just a foot of air between their faces. "And, if we ever get closer…" Akashi drifted for a moment as the impact of the words settled on the both of them. "Then we'll do more. Okay?"

Kuroko nodded slowly. "Sounds…reasonable."

"Mostly…I'm not dating anyone else. And I hope, you're not either. So we'll take it slow." Akashi looked him in the eye, to which the bluenette melted. He managed to shift his head slightly. The mogul took it as a yes.

"Okay then." Akashi's face had changed a little. From being suave and confident, it was just slightly unsteady, clouded in something that surfaced on the edge of worry. Or perhaps insecurity.

Kuroko reached out a hand and brushed Akashi's cheek gently, letting the feathery brushes run goosebumps over his arm, over the tan and silky expanse.

"Okay."

* * *

**._. I don't like this chapter. Whatever. I don't like any chapter I write, really. Review for me! That includes you, visitor with no account! And YOU – reader that has bookmarked me but is scared to review! I'm not going to bite, I promise and I will always notice your reviews! I want to hear from you! WRITE! NOW!**

**Also - sorry, it's 1994, not 1984 for those who read the earlier version of Kuroko's birthday - thanks!**


	10. Chapter 10

**So, a few words from this pitiful and grateful and blessed author. T_T**

**Thank you, for all the reviews - and the new guests and followers that came about. All of them were such kind words, and so encouraging - I think you've all basically learned to ignore any rants I have by now - which is a really good thing, let me tell you, haha! I don't have many ways to say thank you for everything so I have just this chapter - it's the longest one yet!**

**The only bad thing is... that this...is not edited. Definitely not edited. Please excuse the mistakes. I was in a frenzy writing it for all the scenes swirling in my head these weeks, but now I have no more fuel. If this matters to you, let me know - should I wait a day before posting things so it's better written? Some way to improve the writing? I'm open to critiques and suggestions? Or is faster the better like always?**

* * *

"What?" Aomine yelled. "Tetsu and Akashi are together?" Momoi winced and glared at the crazy eyed cyan colored head as Kuroko simply looked on, his vacant expression piercing each of the Miracles with a shining glint.

"That … that –" Kise sputtered, holding out his pointer finger in front of him haphazardly. He looked like a statue, done in a half-assed way, in danger of poking out anyone's eye that came too close to the frozen model. Midorima swallowed and pushed up on his glasses, a habit that he tended to do when he was uncomfortable or nervous. "I see…"

Momoi sat her hands firmly on her hips, glaring daggers at the petrified group in front of her. "Tetsu-kun likes him, so I don't need any of your whining –" she glared at Kise on that word, "Or your idiotic baffled expressions," the pink head tossed a scathing look towards Aomine. "And I don't need any weird comments from the rest of you lot. Be mature and think about questions before you speak. If you have any problems with it, ask nicely."

Murasakibara continued to munch with a dark expression, the only one sitting down in the break room during this conversation. Nevertheless, he still towered over Kuroko and Momoi, who stood in front of the group.

Aomine rubbed his neck irritably, letting out a groan. "Geez, Satsuki, give us some more credit than that. We're just surprised is all. Tetsu isn't exactly the touchy feely type." The rest of the group murmured in agreement as they glanced around at each other. Kotaro nodded along with the rest, his reaction muted but his eyes slightly hazed, as if the fact of the matter was finally sinking in.

"But…when has Kurokocchi even seen Akashi-san since…you know," Kise asked hesitantly. Everyone knew the occasion that he was referring to. Following those spastic days where Kuroko jumped at the mere sound of someone walking or a glass clinking came the uneventful Thursday night when Akashi walked through the front doors, disappeared with the blue haired manager for a mysterious hour, and was unceremoniously kicked out of the club. For all they knew, the mogul might've considered it a permanent ban. No one had since seen the man for a month.

Momoi looked at Kuroko for some help to which the boy sighed. "He contacted me a few times after that, and we got to know each other a little better." With a slight bow, pushing down the embarrassment he felt as more than a dozen eyes watched him, Kuroko said, "Please treat him kindly. I think you liked him well enough before – I'd like to give him a chance. So, don't think too badly of him."

Silence descended once again. Surprisingly, the one who broke it was Murasakibara. "Well," he said lazily, his tone dark enough to show the irritation he was struggling to hide, "If that's what Kuro-chin wants, then that's what we'll do."

Midorima agreed immediately. "Obviously so. That is the proper thing to do for our friend and general manager." Aomine grunted, reaching for his coffee on the polished mahogany table. "Well, of course we're going to. But first we'll have to remeet him correctly, now that he's going to be taking care of Tetsu."

"Absolutely!" Kise declared, getting more animated. "If Kurokocchi is going to be with him, we need to make sure he knows how important he is! And that Kurokocchi deserves to be treated right!"

"It's not like this was such a surprise to begin with," Kotaro added, his usual cocky grin coming back. Momoi rolled her eyes but smiled warmly as the noise began to rise once more to its regular volume. The tallest manager shuffled to his cabinet, taking out a fresh bag of chips from the ridiculously piled stash, a couple of cookie cartons falling out on the opening of the door.

Kuroko simply let out another inaudible breath, both of relief and additional embarrassment to flush out the heat rising to his face. If it was him, he wouldn't have told his friends about his new relationship so soon. It wouldn't do well to tell them about something that wouldn't work out in the long run and then have to suffer their pity and attempts to comfort him after. Even though Midorima, Kotaro, and Aomine would probably react well enough to the news, he couldn't trust the cleaning ladies that gossiped constantly with their blonde stripper or the purple head to mutter something obliviously to all of the workers at the sex shop, which would then cause a panic and probably some serious threats towards Akashi later in life.

But Momoi had convinced him this was necessary, seeing that Akashi was picking him up here in less than an hour – he had come back from an inconvenient location, and it would do no good for Kuroko to walk somewhere else when the male knew exactly where the bluenette worked. With all staff there to watch, it was easier to tell them up front then let them watch from some clouded window somewhere above.

In the second case, creepier pictures and much worse gossip would be the product of the trip.

"Kise-kun, I don't need to tell you anything!" Momoi said irritably, swatting away Kise's pestering hand which connected to the rest of him that was begging for any information on the new relationship. Honestly, Kuroko felt quite happy seeing all of them, interacting like they had for years – a constant in his life that was suddenly changing before his eyes. Aomine glanced at the small male and stood up to meet him.

"You okay?" He asked, in that same awkward and familiar air. Kuroko looked up at him and gave a small smile, which caused the former's eyes to widen. "I'm good, Aomine-kun."

Since he refused to use any other description that might hint more of the warmth and giddiness he was feeling inside, 'good' was all that he would let himself admit. The couple weeks since Akashi and he had agreed on their 'slow and steady' arrangement was running miraculously well, more so than Kuroko had hoped or expected in his limited experiences of dating.

Whenever there was nothing to do – or even something that did spark some interest, they would text it. Kuroko did this more than Akashi, which at first bothered the bluenette. Would someone who needed to do as the billionaire in a day have time to care about accidents of managing a club? Like the time when Kagami accidentally fell face first into Muraskibara's cake had put in the break room when he tripped over the foot massage left tossed on the floor by Kise.

Kuroko had messaged Akashi with a picture and a brief caption, guessing it would be the most exciting thing that would happen in the store for a while. But when a ding alerted of his reply, the only thing expressed was amusement, especially noting how Kagami probably needed the moisturizing from the cream anyway, seeing how he was not a firm believer in lotion in cold weather. And also he should probably wash before Murasakibara started licking him.

It was these sharp and somewhat witty comments that Kuroko learned was something that came as part of the package with Akashi, and something slowly the redhead showed more and more as they got to know each other. Kind of like the other day when they were at Maji's.

* * *

"No."

"What do you mean, 'no'?" he asked, slightly annoyed. "How could you possibly say that?"

"I just don't."

"Your palate is surprisingly unrefined," he stated flatly as they waited in line, behind one stuttering forty year old man in glasses, now changing his order for the fourth time in the last two minutes.

"To my defense, I was in a rush, it was late at night – and almost eleven thirty. I had just gotten off of a twelve hour flight over the Indian Ocean. Just because I wasn't impressed with one burger one year ago doesn't mean anything," Akashi pointed out bluntly as Kuroko stared straight ahead, ignoring the redhead, who stared at him, heterochromatic eyes glowing even in the broad daylight.

The smaller boy pressed his hands into his fluffy trenchcoat deeper, and said with a flat voice, accompanying the emotionless expression in his eyes, "Maji's burgers are not something you just overlook because you're tired. They should've helped you wake up from your stupor."

"I didn't say they were bad. They just weren't anything extremely special," Akashi protested again. "And I thought you didn't even like American food?"

Kuroko stepped forward as the lady gave a knowing smile towards him, looking slightly curious at the handsome man that stood to the bluenette's immediate right. "I didn't say I didn't like it – it's tasty in small portions." Akashi gave a sigh as Kuroko pointed at the menu on the counter.

"One large vanilla milkshake and two Chef's specials, mine without the onions…" he turned and shuffled slightly, letting the older male have access to the menu. "Akashi-kun, what do you like your burger?" he finished quietly, awkwardly. The ginger pointed towards his own condiments, which Kuroko tried to burn into his memory for future reference. "You should definitely try the milkshake," he murmured to the mogul who smiled in reply.

"One small vanilla milkshake and a water please," Akashi finished.

"Together or are you paying separately?" the elderly woman asked politely. Kuroko and Akashi looked at each other before Kuroko shrugged. "Ah…I'll pay I guess," he said. They waited at the counter as the food was prepared, the redhead highly aware as Kuroko's eyes never wavered from the blender, containing the milkshake base and ice cream that was spinning within. The waitress who was making the shake saw them loitering. Her eyes brightened considerably when they fell on the shorter male, giving him a happy wave.

"Kuroko-kun!" she said excitedly. As he waved back, she quickly turned off the machine, giving the mixture a good shake to check for consistency. Then, with a careful stroke, the clumpy liquid slid with a light thump into the Styrofoam cups. Two burgers slid onto the folding block, which were folded in the crinkling paper, a smiling sticker sealing both wrappers. As the tray slid towards them, the girl gave a dazzling smile, a bit too bright for such an early morning.

"How was your night?" she asked, leaning one elbow over the high counter, its level almost reaching the bottom of her chin. "You look dapper as usual."

Like most exchanges, Akashi expected to see his breakfast partner give a polite nod or at most a kind reply. That is why when he turned his head to see Kuroko's reaction, his eyes widened comically wide in shock.

Kuroko chuckled, a slight twinkle decorating his pale irises. With a humble shrug, he took the tray, answering, "You are too kind. Ayami-san looks much more beautiful." The black tresses of her tied hair fell over her shoulder in a cascade as Ayami reached over to touch Kuroko's hand. "You're so sweet. Are you finally going to tell me what you do all the time until early morning?"

"If I do, I'm sure you'd no longer find me interesting." Kuroko gave a his traditional head tilt before stepping away from the counter. "Thank you for the milkshake, Ayami-san." Akashi barely murmured a vacant thanks as he followed the manager, still trying to swallow the exchange that had just happened between the long time acquaintances.

Kuroko showed him to a corner booth by the window once they collected their trays, away from other customers, the sun streaming in warmly as the morning sun greeted them. His eyes had turned flat once more, seemingly unaffected by what had just happened only moments ago.

"Here you go," he said quietly, letting Akashi collect his share of the food, marked with a few colored toothpicks, looking more like a rainbow than Kuroko's plain yellow one.

"Itadakimasu." They clapped their hands together before digging into the food. As Akashi grabbed a wet nap, Kuroko plunged a straw into this drink, taking a single sweet gulp contentedly.

"Okay," he decided resolutely, voice suddenly businesslike. "Try the burger now." The mogul suppressed a raised eyebrow as he unwrapped the burger, highly aware of the pressure pushed on him by those pale eyes. He chewed. The bluenette stared.

"It tastes good," he said.

"That's all?" Kuroko asked. Akashi sighed. "Tetsuya, it's good. Really good. It's just not a life changing burger, okay?"

The bluenette couldn't help but suppress the disappointed seed that was sinking into his chest. He nodded slowly. For Akashi, it was a strange sight to see, the slight bent of the head, barely noticeable drop of the shoulders. Despite the vacant expressions Kuroko maintained, some things about him were quite obvious. Or maybe he was just getting better at reading the twenty year old.

"… Try the milkshake," Kuroko proffered, his voice quieter, feeling slightly sheepish now that the high of show-and-tell was dimming.

Smiling, Akashi sipped the cup. He smiled in surprise. The consistency was thick and creamy, and extremely light like it was whipped. He couldn't help but nod, letting Kuroko's face break out in the tiniest of smiles. "This is really good."

"Really?" The small voice was hopeful, full of a childish innocence that Akashi couldn't help but almost chuckle to.

"Really. This – is really good." And now he was thankful for being brought here – the vanilla was natural and sweet, but not overtly. It had a subtle blend to it that never would be expected from a small class diner in between the market and the train station. If Kuroko hadn't pointed it out, Akashi would've never stepped back into this place.

Kuroko bit neatly into his food. "But the burger…"

Groaning, Akashi sat his chin on hand. Indeed, despite everything, Kuroko was a stubborn kind of male.

"The beef was juicy and marinated, I think it was. Isn't that right? And the bit of egg they add to the cheese is really excellent."

"You're just saying that," he retorted. "You don't have to."

"I mean it. Really. This is a good restaurant and I'm glad you brought me here. And this shake," he lifted it up to the side of his head. "I'm going to get it again, with or without you. Just don't think I'll get it all the time – I'm just not really a milkshake kind of person," he added.

Kuroko smiled. "Alright."

"Now, let's talk about something else," Akashi said, putting down the shake to eat a fry.

"Like what?" Kuroko asked.

"Like the waitress that set down our food," Akashi pointed out flatly, discreetly indicating the young woman filling up a cup a few booths away. "She was flirting with you."

"I know," Kuroko answered, sipping his shake again. His expression didn't look at all concerned as Akashi stared in disbelief. "You didn't fend off her advances," he pointed out again, a little more edgy this time. Kuroko pressed his lips together, the only sign of uncomfortable feeling coming from his body. "Well… the thing is … she puts in an extra centimeter of milkshake into my cup when she's on shift…" Gingerly, the boy showed the area at the top of the cup with a small gap between his fingers, indicating how much above the line the milkshake should have been.

"And…" He began to move more, his cheeks tightening as his lips stretched thinner across his mouth. "Well…she…they make good milkshakes." The voice faltered weakly at the end, trailing to a volume only audible for the insects.

Akashi continued to gaze at him incredulously. "You are a crafty little guy, aren't you?" he said, staring in wonder at the boy. Kuroko didn't look Akashi in the eye.

"It's not like she is expecting anything… she's worked here for over two years… it's just… my milkshake…"

Nodding, the redhead continued to eat, indicating the end to the subject. Kuroko continued to sit, staring at his milkshake, now full of tricks and dirty plays. Akashi said nothing else, passing some ketchup to Kuroko, who halfheartedly opened it. The 'thank you' was even more muted so it had to be lip read. Outside, people walked, the thin curve of the hill giving only the smallest of roadways for cars, two identical obsidian compacts flying past each other. A bird perched on a bare tree branch, which swayed in the chilled wind. Fog collected just slightly on the pane.

In the far distance, the metallic skyrise of Akashi's penthouse loomed in, just peaking over the finance center beside it.

Dejectedly, Kuroko finally murmured, "I've been taking advantage, haven't I?" Akashi shrugged helplessly. "Well, I guess it's not any different than me with older women during business deals. Just yours is for milkshakes."

Kuroko looked up at that comment. "Older women?" He nodded. "During luncheons, conferences, drinks – to have a good deal, you need an upperhand. Be it something financial or personal – a little bit of favor when it's possible is always helpful. Older women like to feel young, so a few compliments, brushes of the hand…" Akashi's lips twisted to one side thoughtfully. "It gives a bit of charm to the proceedings. And it's harder to say no to someone you've flirted with."

"Ah…" Kuroko tried to imagine Akashi giving a devilish grin or charming wink to a middle aged woman, gold on her finger or pearls around her neck, dressed in Prada. His stomach tightened slightly, the image coming all too easily to his mind. No, he didn't like that thought at all. Maybe Akashi felt the same way just a few moments ago – could that be?

"So, your business does a lot of meetings, huh?" he asked, promising to not continue to flirting any longer – and to try and let it down easy. Ayami was a good person, if not almost a friend to him.

"A lot of talking, a lot of e-mails and even more paperwork and decisions to make. There are a lot of different companies that we go through, so we have to meet with them for regular decisions – running over ideas and new policies, not to mention petitions and worker suggestions and improvements. If adding on new ideas or getting creative with software creators or animators it takes even longer," Akashi began tracing out an imaginary bubble chart on the table, which Kuroko was following through.

After this long list, he seemed to realize how many words were spilling out of his mouth. The redhead stretched out his hand, grabbing a fry instead. "Sorry, I'm rambling about tedious things now." Kuroko shook his head, sitting up straighter. "No, it was fine. It's interesting."

Akashi gave Kuroko a grateful look. "Well, right now things are hectic – we're trying to implement new ways to increase productivity. As well as scan over the new ideas for some animes for 2016 and 2017 going into production.

"You know what's going to be coming out on TV in 2017?" Kuroko asked, his interest piqued. Quickly, he sipped on his shake in a gesture to keep his face blank. The devilish look flashed through Akashi's eyes, replacing the far off look of tiredness that had been coming in. "You're not getting any of that information out of me."

"Hai…"

In the next few minutes of companionable silence, Kuroko fell into a blissful, milkshake-induced trance. He only realized something was strange when he's eyes refocused onto the multicolored ones that were staring straight at him, his own straw in between those moist lips.

The bluenette felt very exposed suddenly. "What is it?" he asked hesitantly.

"Nothing," Akashi said. Kuroko frowned, feeling more on edge. "What?" he asked testily, eyes glinting darkly.

"Nothing. I just thought – you looked nice," he said.

Kuroko's throat tightened. "Nice?" he asked.

"Yes," Akashi said, focusing back on his burger now, clearly showing that the conversation was over.

Kuroko's nerves were still fried from the adrenaline pulsing from the memory of that gaze. So he asked, in as bland a voice as he could muster, "What do you mean?"

"It just means…nice." The sweet and heavy intonation of Akashi's voice wrapped around Kuroko like a cocoon until he could almost see the tendrils in the air, mixing with the vapors that swirled in clouds as the bright rays of sunrise hit their table, throwing the white surface gleaming, and the old booth into a more vibrant world of color. His pale skin warmed with honeyed gold, Akashi's skin browning richly against his violent shade of hair.

And Kuroko just nodded, believing those words for what they were. His voice came out as a single hum. Magic was in the air.

* * *

"Ah, Kuroko-kun, why did you change?" Kotaro wondered aloud as their boss came out of his office once more. The group was still in the break room where the bluenette had left them twenty minutes ago, all prodding Momoi for information until she had begun to crack, the annoyance building up in her even higher as Murasakibara kept throwing crumbs into her beautifully styled hair. Midorima had packed up though, finished sending the last of the e-mails to Himuro to check and preparing to get home soon, if not Takao would begin to ask questions. Questions, he would not like to have to answer to.

The greenette shivered at the sadistic bastard's words he would be hearing soon enough. Not that anyone else knew about it.

"Akashi-kun is here to meet me," Kuroko answered. "We're just going to get some breakfast, he just returned from a trip." Afterwards, the mogul was going to take a couple of days off to recuperate – something that Kuroko had bothered him about, seeing that he was waking up early to chat with the bluenette via text and then working so hard over flights. Even though Kuroko was by anyone's definition a workaholic – twelve hours a day, seven days a week – Akashi's job was almost 24/7, with notes and lists coming in a neverending wave.

Everyone's mouth gaped open, staring fish out of water. "Right now?" Aomine grunted, clearing his throat. "In maybe ten minutes," Kuroko amended.

Midorima put his coat back on the rack. Takao would have to understand…in any case the punishment would be worth seeing Akashi come – and to see Kuroko interact with his boyfriend…date? What were they exactly? He pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose.

Kise took a popsicle from the fridge. "I'm feeling weird…like I'm nervous."

"I don't see why. You're not the one getting picked up for a date," the ganguro answered.

The word 'date' did not help to soothe Kuroko's stomach. Recently he had been working to improve on his reactions, calming his body and not getting so jumpy when Akashi surprised him, which he had a tendency to do because he had such a quiet walk. And it was supposed to be Kuroko with that kind of magic misdirection. Akashi didn't really need misdirection. He just had class. It was probably more dangerous.

"Well, whatever it is, let's just get it together."

Ding. An envelope popped up over his green rainforest screensaver. Nigou stared brightly through the monitor before the single line of text appeared.

_I'm inside the club. Where are you?_

Kuroko's eyes widened. "He's here," he breathed out. Everyone froze mid-wisecrack. Their faces began to grow pale. "Oh my gosh – what do we do? What do we do?" Kise panicked, shaking Aomine by the shirt. Momoi began to wail as she was squeezed between the two gorgeous strippers, not wanting to taste the dried sweat that had produced from last night's dancing.

Murasakibara's hand loosened on the chips for long enough that Kotaro was able to plunge a hand in, needing to chew something to lessen the tension in his body. A couple of the other strippers looked at Midorima then each other – they turned to Kuroko and back again, before huddling together, looking as nervous and flighty as schoolgirls at their first dance. It was strange yet therapeutic to see, all of the chaos happening inside Kuroko's chest seemed to have exploded to produce the scene in front of him, calm yet confusing, idiotic yet rational.

"Calm down – he can hear you!" Kuroko muttered a bit louder, texting the redhead back. The noise escalated though, and as if the screeching was a siren's call for the mogul towards his lover, a hard thumping sound echoed from the break room door. The room fell silent for a moment.

"Tetsuya?" Akashi called.

Kuroko's phone pinged once more, indicating that the text had just been sent.

* * *

"What are you doing, Akashi-kun?" he asked, letting his flat tone lilt with curiosity. It had been fifteen minutes since Kuroko had come to Akashi's apartment so they could spend the afternoon together before he left for _Lights_. Even though he'd be about three hours late, there wouldn't be a problem – everything had been taken care of for the next couple of days so there'd be a little leeway. He'd been preparing it all week.

Akashi was standing in the doorway of his room, a sleek and commodious space that had a king size bed and walk in closet big enough to be a separate room. Kuroko thought it was an incredible waste of space. "Sorry – just thinking," he replied, turning from the shogi board to his date.

"What's that?" the bluenette asked, walking into the room. The board was a thick, well crafted piece of equipment. It was polished until gleaming, low to the table, the platform perfectly centered on the table. Kuroko took a step further to inspect the set. Each piece looked delicate, the brushstrokes not imprinted meanly into the wood but carved in, painted in old calligraphy. What was most interesting though is that the pieces were already in play on both sides, as if someone had just gotten up a few moments ago to make some tea. Obviously this board was extremely expensive and whoever owned it had taken extreme care to keep it pristine.

"It's beautiful," Kuroko said.

Akashi brushed his fingers along the wood. "It was my grandfather's," he explained. "But my father wasn't exactly interested in shogi. When I was taught, it just caught my interest, so he let me have it. It's made of Japanese tsugi, you know – that's the traditional wood for it," he amended quickly.

"You're playing?" Kuroko asked, indicating at the moved pieces. Akashi smiled slightly. "Ah…in a way. This is … a game I've been playing for four months now." The smaller boy stared at him. Akashi gave an off pitch chuckle back.

"Four months?" Kuroko repeated dumbly. Akashi nodded. "Well, you see I make strategies and things – that's the most interesting part, looking at the patterns and how they could be counteracted," he began indicating to different pieces. "Like possibly how the rook could move as a defensive piece here but have it be a bigger trap when the opponent 'realizes' that it would be a set up – there has to be teamwork."

The man kept pointing animatedly at each piece, trying to explain why a game could go on for four months. "For a while, I couldn't figure out this one technique I was working on because the opponent seemed to get through it so easily. That took me almost three weeks to figure out," he said painfully, the crinkle in his eyes showing the awful recollection.

"And that opponent was you, right?" Kuroko asked finally. Akashi nodded. "Yeah. Mostly, I just stare at the board. It's diverting for long planes and meetings… I have an app on my phone I use for when I'm away."

He pulled out his mobile from his pocket. With somewhat of a lingering tone, he admitted, "I just wanted to update the board since I returned, but I became distracted again…

"Sorry about that," he finished lamely.

Kuroko was still silent as he stared at the board. Akashi tilted his head, trying to peek into his eyes. "Tetsuya? Tetsuya, are you okay?"

He turned his head upward to the red head. Without a word, his left hand reached over the nape of Akashi's neck, his right touching the fabric of the crisp suit gently. Reaching up, his chapped lips pressed slowly onto Akashi's soft ones. The heartbeats past drunkenly through his mind as they broke away, the air between them mingled with sweet cologne and dried sweat.

Akashi swallowed. "That was nice," he murmured. Kuroko nodded, his head bowed as his fingers tightened on the lapel of Akashi's suit. He was pulled into a warm hug, his nose brushing against the expensive material. It was heady with spice and something heavy and musky. It felt wonderful. He felt giddy. And safe.

And his chest filled with guilt.

* * *

Kuroko opened the door as soon as the Miracles had scrambled to make the place decent, throwing fluffy chicken pillows and butterscotch ripple candies across the room like a football came. Aomine cursed four times as he hit the corner of his table on his open foot as Momoi began to fold up blankets, threatening to kill whoever had left them out so haphazardly on the floor in the first place. Midorima grabbed the nearest hand vacuum and began to spot clean the carpet, which just made the scene feel entirely wrong to Kuroko.

Kotaro and Murasakibara fought to shut the food chests by the door, which had not been able to close since the purple giant had decided to stock up on marzipan and macaroons from a sweets store that was going to close about six months ago. Even Kotaro jumping on them and Murasakibara sitting on the other didn't do much good to the abused chests.

"Just – stop it, everyone!" Kuroko said, even more aware that the whining escaping from Kise's lips could be heard very well through the door. Since usually this club was pounding with music, the room was quite a safe place to complain about guests. But in the quiet of the morning, that was the furthest thing from the truth. "I'm going to open the door – so just, relax."

He took a breath before opening the heavy door. Akashi stood there blankly, in a dull gray suit and loafers. A thick grey coat wrapped around his shoulders along with a patterned wool scarf. "Good morning…" he greeted.

Kuroko gave him a happy smile. "Good morning, Akashi-kun. Ah… some coffee? Tea?" He moved from the doorway to let him in.

Akashi nodded. "Thank you. Maybe some tea." He squeezed Kuroko's hand as he passed, something that did not go unnoticed by anyone in the room.

The strippers looked positively awkward. All their declarations to grill Akashi fizzled away as he walked into the room, but it Kuroko didn't blame them. Akashi Seijuuro simply had that presence to shut a room up, be it in awe or fear, he was a dominating presence and the leader of any room.

"Nice to see you again, Akashi-kun," Momoi gave a friendly wave. He nodded. "How goes the new apartment?" The stripper made a face. "There's a new pervert below me. She's a woman too."

"I don't think that's coincidence there's always a pervert wherever you move, Satsuki," Aomine snipped. "It's probably just you."

"Shut it, Daiki," she snapped back. Akashi laughed. "I'm sorry to hear it," he said sympathetically.

"Well, I think you've met everyone before," Kuroko said. "Midorima Shintarou, he's in charge of all our shipments and money going in and out smoothly, we wouldn't be able to do anything without him. Also dances part time, as you know. Hayama Kotaro, the day manager – was GM before I got the job," he added. The two males shook hands cordially.

"Aomine Daiki, Momoi Satsuki, and Kise Ryota." And then he introduced the rest of the strippers, as well as the first woman that had danced for Akashi and his business partners the first night that they had all met.

"It's nice to see you all again. Please take care of me."

"Here's your tea," Kuroko murmured. He passed the mug to him. "How was the trip?"

"Tiring as always, but I'm relaxing now," he said. Eyeing the awkward group, Akashi asked, "Should we get going?" Kuroko glanced at his weakening staff. "Mm. Hai. I'll get my coat."

As Akashi waited, Aomine finally kicked up the nerve, standing up and shaking his hand. "I guess we'll see more of you around here?"

"Hopefully," Akashi answered. Grunting, the ganguro replied, "Well, I just wanted to say, take care of Tetsu. He's important to us – and he deserves to be treated right. With everything you have." There was a serious nod and gleam from Akashi's eyes. "I know it."

"If not you'll have all of these people coming after you," Aomine added, gesturing to the group behind them. A cleaning lady popped her head out of the adjoining bathroom at this point to nod resolutely with the rest, something that shocked Kuroko since he had no idea anyone had been in there for the last forty minutes.

"I'll take the responsibility," Akashi promised.

Aomine's shoulders relaxed. A goofy smile widened on Kise's face, along with Kotaro's wide grin. Momoi glanced at Kuroko giving a meaningful nod his way, to which he almost rolled his eyes too. "Okay, let's get going, Akashi-kun."

As they walked out of the club, Akashi let out a huge breath of relief. "That seemed to go rather well."

"Were you nervous?" Kuroko asked, analyzing his face. Akashi shrugged, "Well, they are a bit of an intimidating group."

"An intimidating group…" he repeated once more. After an attempt to visualize them as anything more than a fluffy and slightly perverted group he shrugged. "Yes, I suppose they are. But that could be said the same about you."

"At least I have that going for me," Akashi replied. "I need some kind of advantage among your friends." The warmth in Kuroko's chest blossomed as they stepped into the chilly breeze, invading in a gust through the heated club. With only slight hesitation, he took Akashi's hand. "I definitely think you do." The billionaire smiled back at him and kissed him lightly on the head.

The bitter air only became real to Kuroko when an obnoxious voice cut through. His smile dissipated with the vapor. "Ah, Kuroko-san, fancy seeing you here," Koganei called happily, his wide and loopy smile larger than ever. Behind him were the quiet eagle eye and a blissfully peaceful Kiyoshi. They were all bundled for the weather in puffy jackets and red eyes. Probably they were also leaving the club for the day.

"Hello, Koganei-san," Kuroko greeted flatly. The duo turned towards them, who had now stopped on the path. "Kiyoshi-san – Izuki-san." All three of them exchanged a polite nod except for Koganei, whose gaze remained fixated on Kuroko.

"It's such nice, chilly weather out, huh?" he asked conversationally.

Kuroko shrugged. "It's manageable." A full minute of silence stretched between the groups and Akashi's eyes flickered from his lover to the three males, who seemed in no rush to get out of the cold. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, giving just the neon lights and sparse rays to light the cold brick and window displays, all hidden beneath flexible bars, locked in place.

The hand that connected Kuroko to Akashi felt like it was on fire. "I hope business is well," he remarked.

"Thank you. We manage," Kiyoshi added. The eagle eye continued to remain silent. Something about Izuki put Akashi on alert. He pursed his lips gently.

"Well, maybe we should get going," Akashi noted. "Excuse us."

"Ah, who is the gentleman, Kuroko-san?" Koganei asked pleasantly, finally flicking his eyes from the interlocked hands to Akashi's face.

"Just a friend. Excuse us then." He pulled on Akashi's hand down the street, faster than he usually would have. Akashi didn't look back to know the three were still staring at them.

"We should've taken the back door," the manager muttered angrily.

"Who were those people?" Akashi asked as they made their way to the Mercedes. Kuroko got in and locked the door quickly, rubbing his shoulder for friction. "They're some competition from a club nearby called _Shades_. They opened just a couple months before ours did but it never did take off like _Lights_."

"Jealous competitors, then," Akashi summarized. The car started with a calm rumble as stretches of orange burst over the horizon.

"One of many problems with them. They keep trying to peek at our records and marketing as well to get some more ideas." His face contorted into a grimace. "And they do some – illegal – ways of profit."

From Kuroko's tone, it was obvious what exactly he meant. "Ah." Akashi turned up the heating before backing out slowly. "They seem to have a grudge against you, though. It was tense, I mean."

Kuroko's voice was quieter now. "Well, they hate _Lights_. So they hate me the most."

The mogul didn't ask any more about it as they drove back towards his apartment. It was only about five minutes to the garage when Kuroko remembered something important. "Akashi-kun?"

"Yes?"

"Welcome back home. I'm glad you're safe."

The gates opened and they slid into a parking spot. "Thank you. I'm back."

* * *

**Thank you, and as always, review for me. They make me write faster, trust me.**


	11. Chapter 11 - Part One

**I am feeling a sudden inability to write. I need some fuel (aka – reviews *wink wink*). So – I'm giving you this sneaky peek that I really really really should be saving for later. ;) Just blame (or thank) my inability to control myself.**

**Also, thank you so much for all the reviews - so many guests are reviewing! *0* I don't know how to reply to all of you, but I thank you so much! Your encouragement is everything. Also, a bit of a heads up - I'm starting school again tomorrow (College, Spring semester) so I might update slower - but I PROMISE I'M ALWAYS THINKING ABOUT THIS. ALWAYS. MUEHEHEHEHEH... *CREEPY LAUGH***

**Also - guys, this is a FLASHBACK. AKASHI IS NOT CHEATING ON KUROKO. I'm getting scary reviews. Okay, that's all.**

* * *

Akashi had never cared for anyone exactly like he should. The sky outside was still a clear blanket of darkness, cloudless and starless in the skim of fog that covered the atmosphere high where planes flew. Akashi tossed on his dress shirt, the crisp fabric fluttering in the air to kiss tanned shoulders. As he was halfway done with buttoning, a pair of slender arms wrapped around his chest, toned muscles disappearing under the cotton and flesh.

"Good morning," she said smoothly, pressing her lips gently to the nape of Akashi's neck. The woman was wearing a silk grey robe, tied tightly at the waist to expose her slim waist and keep the oversized cloth from slipping from her form. "Did you sleep well?"

He turned slowly to give her a gentle smile. "Quite. And you?" He finished his dressing quickly, giving two spritzes of cologne before reaching for his jacket. The girl shrugged. "It was quite the night. I don't know anyone who wouldn't be exhausted after that."

She took a step back as Akashi left the bathroom, following him along in a graceful sashay, her hips swaying form side to side. "Except you it seems," she added, an easy reminder of the clock which was ticking just ten past four in the morning.

"So it would seem," Akashi said, giving her a smirk. "If you want to sleep longer, feel free. The door locks automatically when it's closed."

"Mm." Her legs crossed as she lay back on the couch, watching the young magnate pour himself a glass of milk from the fridge. "So, I'm guessing that we'll continue to be good friends?" the female asked lightly.

Everything from the way she placed her head on her overlapped hands, smiled with the lips that have never seen a chapped day and her pulled back shoulders radiated 'high upbrining'. And from how Akashi moved in the kitchen, it was obvious he was too.

He stepped into the living room and passed her a cup of tea. "That is my hope, Mayumi-san. In every way." Her eyes glinted as she took the cup, but those heterochromatic irises simply turned away. He grabbed his bag and phone at the doorway. "I'll call for someone to pick you up in a couple of hours?"

"Of course," she murmured. With a sly smile she said, "Have a good day, Akashi-san."

The red head chuckled. "And the same for you." The door shut with a click.

* * *

The mogul was eating a bowl of oatmeal when he walked into the office, a quarter from seven. Reo stood up when the door swung open. "Have you gotten the invoices in from our Kyoto branch yet?" he asked briskly. "They're late for the third quarter once again."

"I already called them an hour ago. They'll be here by the end of the day," Reo replied. He had a soft voice and demeanor, organized and submissive in nature even though he towered over the red head by almost a foot. "I have your morning schedule all planned and ready to go?"

"Isn't the secretary supposed to do that?" Akashi reminded him. Reo shrugged. "She's not used to the time commitments of her position."

"Obviously. Which is why I ordered you to fire her before she entered the office. And you didn't."

"I wanted to give her a chance."

Akashi gave his coat a shrug off as he clicked the remote by his desk. The glare shields on the window vibrated and turned, evolving the grey wall behind him into a floor to ceiling window and behind it, a magnificent view of the Tokyo skyline, still tossed in darkness and the night lights.

"Convinced yet?" he asked. Reo gave a slight shake. "A week more, please."

"Whatever you'd like."

The blackette let out a sigh and brushed his long hair back. "So, how did the date go last night, Sei-chan?" He adjusted the sleeve under his suit gently in the process.

"She was very pleasant" Akashi said promptly, taking the files from Reo. Reo analyzed at him critically. "In what way?" he asked carefully.

"In many ways," Akashi said with an honest expression. "She's strong and confident. Extremely realistic. Beautiful as well as adept in bed –"

"You slept with her," his right hand man said flatly. "Sei-chan, you promised you'd give this one a chance."

"I did," he said, "Even though I told you that she wouldn't work out in the first place, I ignored that and got to know her like you said. Let her 'prove herself'. And after the dinner, it wasn't really necessary to go to the play as well. Besides, all you do there is stay silent and watch. Hardly the best way to get to know the other person. And in the end, it just didn't work out. She wasn't for me."

He turned on the plasma TV to gaze at the morning news. With a shrug, he went to his computer. "It went smoothly, I promise you. No animosities and business will continue on just as it always has."

Reo shook his head. "Nebuya will be disappointed," he sighed. "What was wrong with her then? She was from a rich family with connections, isn't clingy – is not a perfect submissive woman like you detested last time, and she was dignified like you always say. I thought we had picked someone perfect."

"Other than how overconfident and slightly diabolical she was, there was nothing too overly strange. Except that strange fad she has with little boys. I think that's just a little creepy," he added at the end.

"… She's a shotacon?" Reo asked quietly. Akashi shook his head. "Not outright. Just when she's by herself on the internet."

"I won't even ask how you found that out," he sighed. "And what wrong with being diabolical? You are as well, aren't you? Or at least, you're trying not to be."

"A conniving woman is not going to help me _not_ be so. I think one in a relationship is more than enough." The red head smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. "But, thank you, Reo. For the effort. I appreciate it."

"But maybe next time you'll believe when I tell you, I'm always right on this kind of thing."

"Or all kinds of things?" Reo's eyebrow turned upward. Akashi laughed. "Maybe." He turned on the small stove by the door and the beginnings of simmering water churned in the stainless steel kettle.

Everything around the office was luxurious if it was a little sparse. Carpet soft enough to be mistaken for clouds layered the floor thinly in an even cream trim. A couple of bookshelves stood on the desk's left, a rack of various tablets charged on the right, each controlling and updated with different companies' agendas for easier access to the CEO. Blossoming plants decorated the room with spots of color, including an elegant flower with violet petals that sat on Akashi's desk. A peaceful waterfall echoed in the background from the rippling rock fountain by the television.

"If only it had worked," Reo lamented sadly. "Oh, before I forget, the plans for the umbrella conference in November are on your 'Districting' tablet. After the proceedings, we'll have to find an establishment to treat them too."

"It's fine, I think I have that covered," Akashi said.

"Oh? Where do you have in mind?" Reo asked.

"There's this nightclub which has been gaining attention right now but I haven't been to it yet. Luckily, I was able to kick someone off the list for that date."

"I'll check that off the list then."

* * *

**Please review. REVIEW FOR ME. I NEED MOTIVATION TO FORCE FINGERS TO WRITE. Unless you don't want to know what happens (or HAPPENED 0 *evil laugh*) to Akashi and Kuroko. Then okay. Don't review. That's fine. I'll just keep it all to myelf.**


	12. Chapter 11 - Part Two

**This chapter … exhausted me. By far, the most challenging chapter of the fic to write so far. And the one I'm most insecure about. I've been writing this one for quite a while now, and there was so much that I wanted to write that I feel like at the end I'm not sure how it sounds anymore. It's at times like these I wish I had a Beta – in my ears every word has so little meaning anymore. It's all quite crappy to me. Now, I'm so exhausted on finishing this – if something is rushed…I'm just SO SORRY. TT_TT I just couldn't do it anymore. THIS IS ALL I COULD DO.**

**On a nicer note, everyone, I am honored for you reviews. THEY WORKED! I was definitely much more inspired to push this out after all of your inspiring words. Thank you so much for sticking with me on this! This chapter is 9,047 words. 9,047 WORDS (on Microsoft Word, at least). Please enjoy it immensely as we dive – only very shallowly into the mind of our Emperor, Akashi. :)**

**Last notice: If you compare the earlier chapters that this reference to this one – which you really don't need to do, you'll notice that things seem to be very different when rewritten here. It's because in stories, perspective changes EVERYTHING. And this is just through our redhead's eyes now. And for Rara890 – it's a long time coming, but here's the answer to the "grey haired man" mystery. ;)**

**Enough of my ramblings. Let's get on with the show.**

* * *

Akashi leaned his head into his hand. He felt frustrated more than anything. Although he had meant every word of what he had said to Reo – obviously so, considering. The woman was beautiful and devious– a prime example of one who could manipulate her way up the social ladder.

Once he fell from grace – societal or financial, she would attack him like a snake on the weak. Akashi wanted no part with another pair of judgmental eyes. They already invaded every other aspect of it. He didn't need it in his bed every night when he fell asleep as well.

But the way that he said it was too much. It sounded cold and cynical.

Well – it was true that he was those things. And actually, he _had_ been cold and cynical. He knew that she was irksome and unimportant – and he looked down on her for it. But the whole point was that it was his job to stop being so high and mighty. Proud. And rude. That was what he had been told at least. And quite horribly too – like a bucket of cold water there just to drown his pride…

"Akashi-san?" an emotionless voice enquired.

Speaking of the devil.

"Yes?" Akashi lifted his head from his desk and turned to the door expectantly.

The man that stood before him seemed to blur into the walls. It was difficult for one to focus their eyes and likely just fill in the space taken up with scenery. It wasn't because he was strange or absurdly plain. It just seemed like no life emanated from the male's body. His frame was unnaturally still, unaffected by seemingly wind or movement, eyes dry and dim of light that should reflect the fixtures above.

Mayuzumi walked into the room with a leveled gait, laying a pile of inquiries on his desk. "Your afternoon stack. It's relatively small."

"Thank you," Akashi said with a small sigh, pulling it towards him. He leaned to one side, full of the lethargy in him.

Mayuzumi was silent as Akashi began to read and the mogul did nothing to stop him. It was after a full minute when the grey haired man finally spoke. "You slept with her, it seems." His voice was barely audible in the silence of page flipping.

"It's the story of the day," Akashi said with a grunt, sliding more audits through the scanner.

Mayuzumi didn't react to the quip. "I'll take your evening items to be faxed. And the information you requested is at the bottom." Such 'information' was a very subtle way of indicating blackmailing material that would bring another information magnate to its figurative knees.

"Thanks," the red head replied.

Akashi wasn't sure what he was expecting to hear from the silent individual. But he was surprised at what came next out of the male's mouth, moments before leaving the office. "You should probably take a break from dating," Mayuzumi said calmly.

"What?"

Mayuzumi shrugged, if it could be called that. His lapels shifted over his suit as his bangs slid to the other side of his forehead, the only two indications that he had moved his upper body.

"Apparently it's not doing you much good right now, especially with your recent track record. You're in no condition to be in a relationship yet. Besides, it's still just recently that you took over the company. Take some time to get it into a more stable position so you can focus on other things."

He said this so reasonably that it barely sounded like an insult. Probably even the confidante himself didn't think of it was such. Such things were just truth. And as much as Akashi was a proud, dominant – horribly blunt kind of individual, if he listened to anything, it was facts. And the fact of the matter was, Mayuzumi was right.

Feeling slightly annoyed, but more resigned than anything, he turned his chair to gaze out the window, sky scrapers glinting past the tinted glass before him.

"Yeah. Probably should."

Any interest in Akashi's agreement was absent from Mayuzumi's face as he walked out, but it was a silent exchange. They had agreed, and all that was left to do was work. And that fell on Akashi.

* * *

Six Months Later

Stepping into _Lights_ is very much like stepping into a dream. As you wait outside, it's easy to feel self-conscious. It's cold and dreary, not to mention full of people dressed just as strangely as you with alcohol already on their breaths.

The line seems to stretch before your eyes until your head begins to ache, but cut with such efficiency that the visual haunts you – a single metal doorframe, dead bolts anchored like a prison barricade. In the anticipation and agony that arises with every inaudible creak, the ghost of a beat will ricochet and dissipate into the night, a comforting token that you are not being deceived in your hopes. It is a line that seems to stretch endlessly – reminiscent of the elusive horizon.

When you finally do reach the front, guards that seem to lack emotion will look you over once – just once because they have no further need to look at you again. It is a bit disappointing to be sure – all of the work you put into looking stylish or hot, beautiful or maybe even to hide that stash of ecstasy that is lacing your pockets is of little concern to them.

Is it because they are already jaded in beauty or is it because you are just not impressive enough to merit a second glance?

The thought begins to nag at the corners of your mind. You begin to feel irritable as they scan the lists three times over for your name, for your ID – practically a full criminal background they seem to be taking at the door. It's annoying in the extreme. What makes your experience even more incredible is how little care these employees seem to have towards you as they stop in their search to eat a granola bar with a comrade before picking up the clipboard once more with greasy hands – and the thought of how much that night was slices painfully through your conscience.

And not once did they even look at you again. A piece of paper and preservative-laden products are more enticing than you will ever be it seems.

Finally, you are fed up. As people in Armani suits keep passing you by, young teens with no identification just sail through, and you are beginning to feel the numb of the cold seep through your designer underwear that the bouncer makes the most glorious sound in the world – the click of a metallic counter, dulled with use.

The door opens with a heavy countenance, the crack just as small as it had been for those before you, but now that it was your entrance it permitted, seemed wider than a mouth waiting for an orgasm. You step in, the lights and atmosphere wrapping around you like a blanket of hallucinogens in a comforting blanket.

And it was all of those feelings above that Akashi skipped when he stepped into _Lights_, immediately let in through the VIP line.

From the moment that he entered, the atmosphere changed instantaneously around him. A subtle scent permeated the dense air, potent and sensual, with the ability to make you feel altogether too much at ease. The humidity inside made one immediately take off the coat they had sworn not to part with and pass it to the woman already waiting to take it. Suddenly, in a strange way, now that you're showing more skin, you feel relaxed – a counterintuitive measure that yet worked like magic.

It was a trusting atmosphere, a bold environment. Inside, the room was full of smiles and alcohol. Akashi smirked as he slipped through the crowds for the eagle symbol that would indicate a club employee.

The throngs parted before him. Mothers, too old for what the clothes they wore, partied as they tried – and succeeded in forgetting the children they left sleeping at him. A boy that had maybe a year to live and knew it too by the looks of his frame – a couple of girls that were wrestling with their consciences even as they made out with each other – it was all easy to see as he passed. The way people talked gave away what they didn't want to say, the clothes dancers wore only mirrored the dangerous amount of money that the predictably drunk were going to lose by the end of the night. No matter what, people were a predictable thing.

In a club was dizzying, cozy yet spacious of an almost 20 feet high above them in a ceiling, problems all reflected the same. Forgotten.

Silently, he winced, turning away from the forty year old man drinking away a midlife crisis at the bar. He knew that he wasn't supposed to be analyzing them – or judging them without benefit of their privacy. But in a nightclub, it was harder to kick the habit.

Finally, he spotted a green head sporting the elegant crest, majestic in its strange environment of swirling tints and humping aged men. "Excuse me," Akashi said, his voice cutting clear through the din.

"I called about a meeting and room for tonight. Akashi Seijuuro." Quickly, he flicked out a business card.

Midorima gave the man a quick look over and grabbed the large purple umbrella beside him, littered with pictures of anime characters posing cutely on the sides. "Of course, sir. Please come this way. We're almost finished preparing the room."

Akashi followed Midorima away from the dance floor and through a twist and turn before coming to a quieter area curtained in black velvet. "Would you like a drink while you wait, sir?"

Akashi surveyed the man as he was delivered a scotch. From what he knew, that umbrella was likely something very irregular for such a serious man – a dare? No, there would be more shame. Likely a strange belief – but to advertise anime products – and one of his own company's, he admitted – maybe one of those strange psychic shows. Yes, that would fit right in. So, Midorima is superstitious, is he?

"Johnnie Walker Red – neat."

"Yes, sir. I will be right back." Midorima bowed and exited the room. Akashi gave the place a turn and stopped to gaze at the fine crystal decanters on the wall as another individual entered. "Akashi-sama?" Kise asked brightly. Unlike his conservative predecessor, who dressed in a black wool turtleneck, the blonde was wearing leather. A lot of it. Straps bent to emphasize rather inappropriate places, hastily covered by a long coat.

"I'm sorry, but your server will not be here for a few minutes. I hope that I'll suffice for now?" Kise asked cordially, taking a handsome bottle from the shelf and a glass. "Your scotch for you."

"Is my room ready yet? My party should be here in a few minutes."

Kise nodded. "Everything is set and your office called in earlier this morning. As soon as the room is opened the club will direct your guests directly there. We've provide an additional double room package. Compliments of the house."

Everything about Kise was perfect, touched up like a gem ready for show. Akashi's memory flickered back to the cover of a men's designer magazine. If a model that graced the front pages of Calvin Klein has become a stripper and dancer, the pay must be very enticing indeed. Even so, what professional poser would demean himself willingly?

His interest grew of this club grew exponentially as Kise continued conversation happily.

"Is there a reason this is taking so long?" Akashi asked after a few more moments of incessant conversation from his host.

"Ah –" Kise gave an apologetic room. "The VIP rooms are guarded by a key which sadly our general manager is holding at the moment. He is very difficult to find sometimes."

The curtain swept open a final time.

"Sir. You required an empty VIP room?" he asked crisply.

The voice sliced through the room like a boat in. The volume barely rose above a murmur, light like a butterfly hovering in a mediating breeze.

And finally, it was clipped, as if Akashi was more of an inconvenience than an asset. Akashi looked up.

The man in front of him was young. His shoulders rounded down gently, emphasizing the delicate face and hands that had never imprudently touched the horrors of manual labor. His immaculate face was void of emotion, his chin lifted up.

A set of high cheekbones exposed a sharp face. Glorious, yet it made you fear that a single stroke across them would mar his beauty forever and destroy the purity of his eyes.

This boy was proud and wholesome, breathing and ejecting the sea of vulgarity and disease that roared around him. And the whole time, his eyes could care less about the vermin that bothered him.

Which, at the present – would be a certain red headed mogul.

Akashi smirked slightly, purely out of habit alone.

"I did."

His head tilted slightly to what Akashi had deemed a perfect body only a few moments before, now felt like a dirtied copy of an original work. Kise moved away from Akashi in a swift movement, as if pulled by strings through the bluenette's nod.

"This way then, sir," the manager said quietly.

Akashi followed him without a word through a maze of corridors and into a second open forum again, the pounding beat faint and dissipating into the velvet around them.

"Should I be expecting anyone else to be joining you this evening?" he asked, barely glancing behind him to see if Akashi was even still following.

How strange it was to Akashi. Usually when he came into an establishment that was hosting an event as important as an international meeting, all the stops were pulled out. Valets and hostesses lined the red carpet of his arrival, along with the owner or at the very least head manager to bow him inside. Gifts would be piled in the rooms, along with cameras and press that followed them here – all six media cars, which Akashi left outside when he entered the club.

But in this heady atmosphere, not only was he forced to wait, this boy, who made no effort to make any eye contact – was blatantly asking him what he was doing here in the first place.

Many rumors he'd also heard about a blue spirit, who flittered through the halls of this club like a ghost. And here the general manager was – taking out keys from a loop locked at the hips of his jeans, with no idea who Akashi even was.

Akashi smiled. "Yes…two men, who should know my name. We felt like some entertainment."

If the bluenette was to be casual, then the magnate would do the same. Unimportant and carefree.

Kuroko didn't even reply. Apparently there was no need to.

Akashi looked the boy up and down. His skin glowed eerily bright like the moon in sunlight, unbelievably pale. It radiated like a holy light, making the angelic status of his presence more believable. The skinny jeans hugged on every curve he had, and a few that if only Akashi was shorter and in front of Kuroko would probably be called indecent.

Factory branded shirts over wrapped over the manager's body, the nightclub's crest placed just barely on the shoulder of his shirt, which dipped over one side of his body and grew hazy as light pierced through the open holes.

Akashi's brow furrowed. It was not an exact science or perfect art, nor was it any kind of superpower. But he was adept at reading people's lives from their actions and appearance. It was something he used frequently for business or personal living.

Yet, for the silent minutes that passed as they dove deeper into the elegance of Lights, there was nothing for Akashi to see. The boy was as blank as the expression he wore on his gloriously perfect face. A canvas with absolutely nothing on it.

When the bluenette turned from the door, Akashi decided to test him out. It was impetuous – instinctive – a test from the predator to the prey. Purely out of curiosity.

The boy's question was just too good of an opening. "Shall I call someone up to entertain you?"

Akashi stuck out his hand, pressing it firmly against the underside of his host's thigh, a delicious heat seeping through his fingertips through the thin fabric.

"Might I ask if you are available?" The voice was perfect – subtle yet wicked, full of the awful implications and despised lust one so carefully avoided.

The boy did not much as glance at his face as the pale, lithe body spun, knocking the hand away like a robust fly in a tiny kitchen. Stunned for the moment at the sudden movement, Akashi's arm swung like a bat. Luckily, he stopped it before it knocked into the wall behind.

With an air too smooth for someone with as gentle a façade as the angel, the manager said, as disinterestedly as possible. "Sorry. I'm not on duty tonight."

So cold. So easily. So…uncaringly.

Akashi smiled – what else could he do against such a vision?

"Ah. My apologies. Maybe next time."

The boy left him soon after. And Akashi knew that for the first time in probably his whole life, he had been quite forgotten.

* * *

"I can do it," Kuroko pressed again, more forcefully this time. His forehead beaded with sweat, which he wiped away with the sleeve of his t-shirt. Akashi looked at him with an amused smile, his eyes warm in the sunshine. "Are you sure? You must be tired," he said doubtfully.

If Kuroko was honest, the one thing almost impossible for him to feel at the moment – was sleepy. Here he was – dripping. From the trickling bead of salt water that ran down his nape to the sticky underarms of his pits, out of breath and even worse – losing in front of the most gorgeous piece of male specimen he had ever seen. And it was on the game he had played for years on end.

The heterochromatic eyes glinted in the sun once more, sending shots of adrenaline painfully into the bluenette's flabby arms, making it even more difficult to keep a tight hold on the ball.

Not what he needed right now when he was down 20-2.

"I'm not tired," Kuroko repeated again.

Akashi stood in front of him, his dark t-shirt clinging delightfully onto the chiseled form of his chest, his hair slightly tossed from the breeze that skated by the basketball court.

"You're still thinking of beating me?" Akashi teased.

"I'm definitely not giving up, if that's what you think!" His legs ached as he charged towards Akashi. As soon as the red head was almost on top of him, he dodged sideways and shot – a drive that had worked well for him back in high school.

The ball seemed to sail for the net, and Kuroko's heart leaped in hopes before it plummeted. By an unseen force, Akashi's hand rose to the ball's height, sweeping it into the cover of his body. He dashed away, marking the half court line in the time it took Kuroko to turn completely around.

With breathtaking beauty, the larger man jumped in an away shot, another perfect three point arc swishing into the rim.

"21-2" Akashi said breathily, winking at Kuroko. "Should we start another game?"

The bluenette shook his head, passing Akashi on his way to his water bottle. "I don't understand – you really weren't on your basketball team in high school?"

Akashi followed close behind, hanging a white towel tight around his neck. "Didn't have the time for it, with my father wanting to train me in the company."

"If only you did play basketball. You're good." Akashi smiled. "Thanks."

There was a faint trill of school bells in the distance. After a few heartbeats of silence the usual trail of students began to exit the school, talking and joking with one another.

"School's getting out. We should probably leave, the basketball club will be wanting the court." Kuroko pointed to the students shuffling away, bags in hand and a multitude of boys releasing tightened knots from their noose. Girls seized the moment to stretch their arms above their heads.

Akashi nodded. "Right."

They stopped the car as a walking guard brought them to a halt. The kids were only a few years younger than they were, something that made Kuroko feel strangely disconnected from what he was seeing. Even though they were almost the same age as him, it felt like lifetimes since he thought like them. And he knew, he could never go back.

It was a sobering thought.

"Where did you go to school?" Akashi asked.

"Ah – high school? I went to Seirin. Middle school was at Teikou." Akashi blinked, surprised. "Really? Teikou? That's where I went to middle school," he said.

Kuroko gaped. "Really? Then we would've been in the same year – what class were you in?" He asked, just as astonished.

"3-A."

"That would explain it – 3-B. It's strange that we never saw each other, though. Our classes are right beside each other."

Akashi sped forward as the last of the teens stepped on the pavement. "Well, I was usually gone early or came in late because of the company work I was doing. My father trying to get me used to the "load and responsibility". He paused for a moment before giving a small chuckle. "In retrospect, it does seem like he had some kind of feeling that I would need it, huh?"

Kuroko wasn't sure, but he thought there was a trace of a scorn in his voice.

"I'm not sure about that, but it seems like it paid off. You do remarkably well on your own." Akashi gave a crooked smile. "Mm. I can hope at least." The school disappeared from view behind the males.

"Do you have any good memories of high school?"

Now, it was the bluenette's turn to pause. "I did," he finally said, quietly.

"Like what?" Akashi asked. He turned in one graceful loop around another car, which had broken down in a one-lane road. Kuroko marveled at how quickly it was done.

"Basketball, I suppose," he replied distantly. "I was on the team, I told you. Not good, of course," he added meanly.

"Friends?"

Kuroko stared longer out the window. "… Yeah. I actually met Kise-kun, Aomine-kun and Momoi-san in middle school. As well as Murasakibara-kun and Midorima-kun in high school. It's kind of interesting of things turn out, huh?"

The silence that followed made the mood grow painfully tense. Quickly, the red head changed topics.

"Hungry?" he asked.

Kuroko shook his head. "If you already ate then I can just get something at home. Thank you, though."

"I'll drive you back," Akashi offered cordially.

A small lump in his throat dissipated quickly as the thought of his – date? Boyfriend? Lover? Such thing was never figured out – finding out where he lived.

"Ah – okay. I'll tell you the way." He was sure to clear his throat loudly to cover for the long pause.

* * *

When Akashi arrived for the second time to _Lights_, he wasn't really sure what he was doing there. That in itself was already the first sign of something wrong.

He looked around the place with a cautious eye, trying to spot for the wild spot of powder blue that would let Akashi know the bluenette was around. He rubbed his chest carefully at the mere thought.

But the pain subsided as quickly as it had come, and there was no spot of the manager to be seen. He wandered towards the bar, the crowds of people lessening only slightly as the night wore on. It was around 2 AM right now – and a Saturday night, no less. As the frame of an abnormally large man – his red t-shirt stretching over the swell of his muscles – moved from view, the mogul finally caught a glimpse.

No one seemed to notice him – and those who did were, even in their drunkenness, intimidated enough of his aura to make him unapproachable. And that aura gave Kuroko Tetsuya a pleasant semi-circle to lounge on, despite the overcrowded bar. The pale eyes pierced through the crowds like x-rays, sighting warning in Akashi's mind not to be seen. Quickly, he ordered a scotch, laying a five thousand yen note on the counter before slipping away to avoid being seen.

What was wrong with him? He didn't understand the reason that he was avoiding the boy – the male would make no notice of him even they did lock eyes. Rather, he'd probably just nod him politely. Akashi's chest solidified like lead with this thought. That was exactly the point. He would be only another bystander, unnoted and unimportant.

But so what? He wasn't that full of himself – he knew that no one can be the center of attention. Just because there was one person out there who didn't care and wasn't impressed by his presence, was it that big of a deal?

Akashi was unable to control himself as he took another peak at the boy, trying to find what he might be missing from the persona that now was scrolling through his phone in a vague attempt to keep busy.

Slight hands, fit body – a bit of jelly around the sides indicated a while since any major workout routine was in place. Long eyelashes that naturally rose from his eyelids, a smartphone that was generally expensive.

Nothing. Not a single major clue to reveal anything important about the boy. The annoyance that rose within him helped muddle the confusion of earlier.

Yes – that was why he was thinking so much about Kuroko Tetsuya. It was because he was an enigma, a puzzle to be solved. Not just because the bluenette had been special enough to evade his charms. Charms – he reminded himself – that he had not really attempted seriously.

Those were all just tests. Obviously.

He needed more information.

"Akashi-san," Aomine said loudly enough for everyone at the table to hear. It took most of the mogul's will to not analyze the rest of the staff just to be sure that he still was correct, about both his skill and position. But that self-controlling nature exactly what he was trying to stop.

"Sorry to bother all of you," Akashi remarked languidly. "I want to thank you for the excellent time last night."

Yes. This was much easier – conversation that he could manipulate any way he wanted to. His muscles relaxed as he sat down, moving into the territory where he was king. Now all he needed to do was get some information.

"No. No… I was just wondering whether he ever danced," Akashi admitted. As he pointed to Kuroko, the Miracles' responses were eclectic. People smiled, amused yet resigned. Their bodies tightened, as if getting ready for a battle although none was to be seen near.

"He…made an impression on me last time I was here." And the sequence started. Aomine laughed jovially, all too loudly as if to hide the uncomfortable thoughts that were rising inside his head.

Kise stayed silent, looking down at his glass or at various people in the conversation. Momoi seemed sympathetic, although the fierce light in her eyes said otherwise – much more like a mother lioness protecting her cubs.

And then the most interesting piece of information of them all. Kagami's admittance of Kuroko's skills. The fact alone pushed his interest over the edge.

He was intrigued. He wasn't going to deny it anymore, and he didn't want to.

Akashi's head ran through the ploys, different things he could say to get a reaction informal enough from the façade that Kuroko seemed to emanate. What could he bring about that would cause a stir? There wasn't that much about the bluenette he knew to provoke him.

"Good night?"

The bluenette seemed almost reluctant to have company. "It's not bad. How are you, Akashi-san? It's nice to see you again so soon."

Maybe a compliment would help.

"I'm well. The stock was excellent last time and now again, as is the company." Kuroko met his eyes evenly. "I'm glad. Is there something you need help with?"

The chill was so cold Akashi could almost wince. But he wasn't that weak.

"What are you drinking?" he asked, trying to maintain his composure.

"Apple rum."

Apple rum. Did he make that concoction up? Who drank rum anymore? If he was certain – and Akashi was sure he was – rum was extremely high in alcohol. If the bluenette was running a club, why would he choose such a heavy drink?

They continued to speak as Akashi ordered something, but the manager was already away from him. He had been forgotten. For the second time. It was then that something broke inside him. Whatever control or techniques that he had thought up disappeared. Before him was this – this god.

Uncontrollable and untouchable, and for once nothing the red head did would suffice. The tension in his body that had built up was primitive. The air laced with hard drugs that clouded the mind and all around him bodies groaned like an orgy was about to explode into bloom.

The disappointment and frustration well up inside of him, and along with that, the roar of his instincts propelled him forward. He needed to touch him. He needed to calm himself. He needed _something_ from the boy. Anything.

His body didn't think as he pulled Kuroko forward, his head diving in for the kiss. He knew he was undignified. He knew he shouldn't be begging. But he knew that it was no use. Something that scared him, that Akashi was no longer in control of. All he knew was that his entire being was praying that Kuroko didn't push him away. Please.

His chest turned hollow as he met with only skin. Kuroko's head turned. One pale hand held the bar. The other was clawed tightly onto Akashi's tie.

"There is more than money and wordplay to be impressive, Akashi-san. I hope you know that," he said quietly, his tone almost delicate to touch. His previous emotions dissipated along as Kuroko's clear eyes intensified. Images twisted through his mind of those eyes, clouded and lidded, intoxicated by Akashi's movements.

Akashi smirked. "If there was only time to show all those qualities to you. Will I have that opportunity." A real smirk danced upon the blue angel's lips. "Depends." He had to force his hands not to ravage him right then and there.

For the next minute, it seemed like every word he said was wrong. Nothing he did could read the emotionless expression on Kuroko's face, a dozen times more elusive than Mayuzumi's coldest expression. He was too aware of the hairs that stuck up on his arms, sizzling with electricity when Kuroko drew near. He said things that came into his head, thankfully, all of them sounding very much like him.

And when Kuroko's hands dipped downward, his body reacted in an unconscious jerk – something Akashi suppressed with every fiber of his being. The sweet smell from the small, perfect mouth lingered. His body scrambled for a touch.

And then things all disappeared in a greater haze when the bluenette was gone once more. Who knew where was anyone's guess.

* * *

"It wasn't that I felt… bad. Or he treated me lower than him. It was a challenge, obviously – I passed on his…bizarre scale. I was…shocked. Nothing that I expected to happen did. I couldn't read him and for some reason, it feels like he almost played with me. But he didn't. I just don't know how I got caught up in his pace." Akashi massaged his temples with a hard circular motion. "It's difficult to explain – which is already annoying enough."

"I'm supposed to tell you that the animators are here to see you," Mayuzumi said. His voice sounded like he could care less about the confession that Akashi was spilling in front of him. "Shall I tell them to wait?"

"They can come in," Akashi answered flippantly, not interested in the prime minister's chief economic advisor, no matter how many times they bothered him on the phone. And now, in person. His leather chair was soundless as he leaned back, spinning it until his ankles caught the other side of the mahogany.

"In the end…he seems…different."

Mayuzumi made himself an espresso as Akashi continued. Adding an additional shot of cinnamon was something that he was very fond of, or at least it seemed that way since he always added some.

Akashi pressed the call button, letting his secretary know the next group could come in. He would deal with this later, when he had the time.

"Well, it seems like things are solved," the grey haired man added.

"What do you mean?" the mogul replied.

"Your search. Out of that whole speech, you were calm and not once cocky or seemingly annoyed. Even more, you were the one that left befuddled." Their eyes met and Mayuzumi finished his thought.

"You've found someone you don't look down on. A contendor. Don't you think?"

Akashi eyes widened considerably.

Mayuzumi sighed. "For someone so intelligent, this boy seems to turn you dull." As the prime minister and his party stepped in, Mayuzumi exited, leaving a few last words that for one, befuddled the politicians with the amusement that seemed to linger minutes after the consultant left.

"He really must be something special."

* * *

Was he?

That thought plagued him as he entered _Lights_ the next time. There was a part of him wanted to think about it. Wrestle with it until he was sure exactly what the bluenette meant to him. That was what Akashi thought of when he worked all that week. Yet, another part of him, a more dominating and quite convincing side of him just urged him to go.

The bluenette was hot. Unattainability always made one more desirable than usual, but this was uncanny. Akashi never knew the feeling so strongly as he did when he looked the boy in the eye, the electricity that fired through his veins, pumping blood downwards faster than he had felt even on his first time.

There really shouldn't be any reason for him to get too attached to the boy. Obviously, the boy thought the same of him. It was just fun – something that he hadn't had in over seven months, not that he needed that kind of thing to keep him satisfied.

But then again, a fling was dangerous in itself. He knew nothing of this male – and the goal of his last visit had been drowned away in a swirl of emotions and colors. And mesmerizing eyes. Fucking beautiful eyes. From what he could tell, the boy wasn't petty or rash. He wouldn't do anything he didn't want to do – as well that it seemed everyone in this club worshipped him like a deity and would defend him until the death of any opponent of Kuroko Tetsuya.

Akashi knew that he could take care of himself. What he didn't know was how the younger male would take it by the end.

It wasn't his responsibility to take care of others – he winced noticeably at the unbidden thought. That kind of lack of care was exactly what he was trying to move from. In the wrong or not, at least he could be more careful about what he did to the ones he fell into contact with.

The red head walked to Kuroko's table in a careful observation. If the bluenette responded to his advances, that is how things would go. If they didn't work out, he would maintain his distance. It was possibly best that way.

But that night, he shouldn't have worried so much.

"So, Akashi, what do you do?" Embarrassment layered her stuttering as she watched Kuroko stiffen underneath Akashi's ministrations. The red head couldn't help but grin internally, the beast inside him purring in pleasure at the feel of heat underneath the thin denim.

He began to speak when the metaphorical dam broke – his hand lurched forward as the bluenette pulled. It fumbled for something to catch, landing and squeezing an organ that Akashi had not at all intended to reach. Akashi almost snorted at the luck and Kuroko burst. He slammed his tea onto the table.

Not at all chuckling, Akashi asked smoothly, "Would you like to dance?" He was still unable to hide the smirk on his face as Kuroko's nails dug into the mogul's skin, close to taking blood.

They both exited the booth, to the gazes of what seemed like every staff member of the club.

* * *

"You seem to be in a good mood," Reo said carefully.

"Do I?" Akashi said lightly. They were on site – driving down a tiny road in the center of downtown Germany. Akashi liked Germany. The architecture, the elegance, the aged landscape full of history and deception in its midst. The only things he didn't like were the language, beer, and the terrible landscaping of the city. But those were things too late to change now.

"Is there any reason for it?" his right hand asked again. Akashi shook his head slowly.

"Not particularly." There was something very strange about being in bed with a guy. The bed sank in different places when your partner moved, his body foreign yet unbelievably familiar. It was like looking in a mirror that had no resemblance, or a déjà vu that you couldn't quite place.

For some reason, it also felt slightly dirtier. But that wasn't a bad thing.

"Is Akashi-san okay?" Nebuya said gruffly as he opened the car door. Reo gave a half-hearted shrug. "He says so."

* * *

"It's hard to find something that interests me anymore," Akashi said. "Everything seems so predictable. At max, thirty minutes in, you can already say what the ending is and how you get there."

"I haven't seen a movie in theaters in years," Kuroko mused. "I'm not interested in a lot of feel good shows. It has to have some kind of meaning. Instill an emotion in you." They stared at the LED screen as it flipped through the different movies coming out. Both guys had eyes that seemed red as cherries – something that they felt they should point out to their respective partner, but feeling quite hypocritical of it when they were in just as bad a condition. It was what happened when you both worked hours directly opposite of each other. Something just didn't mix.

"Haven't seen a movie in years? Couldn't you go before work?" Akashi marveled.

"Yes, but it always comes out online anyway. And that would take away from chores and food. It's not worth the hassle. I was never big on television anyway," Kuroko said.

"Yeah. I never did make it to the cinema either. After seeing shows developed so many times, the industry's actual products just seem to lack glamor. I keep thinking how much each scene must've cost to make."

Both of them continued to stare for another minute.

"Maybe we should see a play," Kuroko suggested. Akashi looked at him, surprised. "You want to do that?"

"Well…it's not a movie." The simplistic answer made the mogul smile. "I guess that's true. A play sounds good then. Western broadway. Or traditional kabuki?"

"I've seen the kabuki before. With my grandmother a long time ago." He looked dull recalling the memory.

"Broadway it is." Kuroko was tempted to reach out, and take the hand that stayed tucked in the large pocket of Akashi's overcoat. His fingers ruffled, a centimeter of skin pulling to meet with the brittle cold. Suddenly, his courage fell. He looked ahead, hoping Akashi didn't notice the small movement.

"I'll pay for my share," he said.

Akashi shook his head. "I'll treat this time. It's easier to pay for the tickets altogether. You can pay for the next outing?" The bluenette couldn't argue with such a reasonable tone, nor did he have the energy after the failed bodily contact. "Alright." They kept walking on the busy streets of Tokyo, making sure not to stray too far from the other, but again, not touching either except for the occasional brush on the shoulder. Those times made Kuroko shiver with goosebumps.

"By the way. It's been bothering me for a while, but you didn't let me score those two baskets before, did you?"

Akashi's silent smirk made Kuroko forget all about his embarrassment in his irritation.

* * *

Should have been normal. He was sure that he finally had it figured it out. It was a game. A contest. He was sure of it.

And then it wasn't. It didn't go that way at all. Everything changed.

"I settled that with the PR manager for Kyoto Province. The chain will be ours by the end of the week. Also, next week I'll be gone to get more research on the oil rigs down in Houston." Mayuzumi flicked a finger, sending the message into cyberspace of the dark compact car speeding down the road.

"Are we still on for the Mayumis' banquet?" Akashi asked. "I don't remember what we RSVP'd to."

"I'll ask Mibuchi-san to check," he replied.

They pulled up into the back parking lot as Akashi slipped the valet two 10,000 yen notes. The car slid into a premium spot. "We can put that away," he added. "We're going to a club to have fun, after all."

"So this is the place." The grey head gazed vaguely at the dirty building. "You're probably going to be distracted after a few minutes, though."

"Giving me a little credit, I'd at least make it to the double digits before leaving you. Although, you're free to leave whenever you want, of course."

They wandered through the VIP entrance vaguely as soon as Takao recognized his signature hair. No matter what he said, the fact remained that Akashi's eyes began to immediately scan for the red head when they entered.

Mayuzumi went to the bar, quite ignoring the creepy gaze his companion sported. "Guinness," he said flatly. The bartender promptly slid the beer across the counter, along with a coaster. Mayuzumi dropped a 2000 yen bill in the jar.

Akashi came by a moment later to order his bourbon. As they waited, both of them leaned against the counter, backs against the wood to observe the scenery. "So where is he?"

"I don't see … there." He pointed at a flair of hair disappearing through a black door. "That was him."

A little click of his tongue indicated for a satisfied beer drinker. "Guess you _will_ be staying with me a little longer."

'A little while' was over thirty more minutes. Akashi admitted, without much shame, that if left to their own devices, the two businessmen were quite boring company even in such a racy place. Neither of them really left the bar. The closest time was when Mayuzumi took a closer peek at some of the strippers dancing in cages, mentioning on his return that the bright blue fluorescents could be turned down a bit to not strain the eyes so much.

Kuroko slipped out of the room as unnoticeably as an ant in the soil. By luck, Midorima's skinny form that followed was enough of a beacon to let Akashi know that the time had come to attack.

"I've got to go," Akashi said, grinning slightly.

"Mm," Mayuzumi grunted, staring at his moistened beer label.

"You know, I'm not teasing when I say there is something very pleasing about the way you drink."

"I'm sure you do, but sadly the only result will be an uncomfortable throbbing later tonight," Kuroko snapped back lazily.

"Your confidence is overwhelmingly grand," Akashi commented.

"And your pick-up lines are getting progressively worse," the bluenette said insolently.

_Is that really the best you have?_ His eyes mocked.

He looked at Akashi with an incredulous stare and his hips turned towards the speaker. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the mogul couldn't help but note how ridiculously exposed the boy's thin arms were, it made him look even smaller. That didn't help his self-control.

"And where would you get that idea?"

His heart picked up. Things were colder and the counter and chair seemed to slip from his world. He felt unsteady. The edge of the glass seemed thin enough to cut, but for now, he was scared to feel. The alcohol burned, leaving the trail of frozen flesh in its wake as it blazed down his throat. Things became more vivid. And everything took on the look of ecstasy as Akashi swallowed the first finger.

The world disappeared into the first truly sensual moment of his life.

The muscles in Kuroko froze like a spell. He didn't move an inch and the tremors that ran unbidden lay unnoticed in Akashi's attentions. For one brilliant moment, as he looked up into the face, just slightly hazed over, mouth open for a bare shallow breath, a burst of contentment burst inside him – excitement he couldn't contain. It was the first time he had ever seen Kuroko's guard even slightly down. Because of him.

His face neared Kuroko's. "Dance with me," Akashi whispered fiercely.

It didn't feel like the last time, where the fun was tease and comeback – it was not so foolish, so trivial, so idiotically stupid.

For once in his life, the twenty year old didn't think. Not about tomorrow, or what he would do after. Not of the people around him, so vulgar and unrefined in their lives, all falling apart around them like sugar in a hurricane. Through his fingers ran tufts of hair softer than any cashmere he had ever slept in, on his lips the sweetest taste that had ever graced his refined, billion dollar lips.

And in his eyes, saw the soft and open expression of a boy that had entranced him in a spell. And by his hopes, through the haze of his dreams, reflected in those blue, human eyes – was entranced by him too.

And he kissed him. It wasn't on purpose – it wasn't accidental. It was magnetic. It was soft. And sweet.

Akashi's heart melted, in the moments of their embrace. And what he found on the other side of the boundary, he didn't like. There was fear. And rejection. And feeling.

And suddenly, he was gone.

"Excuse me," Kuroko whispered. His entire body trembled, his lips swollen and his cheeks paling like a ghost, draining with rapid speed. He turned away from Akashi, disappearing into the crowd, leaving Akashi devastated.

"Tetsuya?" he whispered, scared. "Tetsuya!" He ran.

And now, it felt like he would never make it. The distance stretched before him like a trick. The lights danced through a mirage. His brain hurt. His stomach churned. He wished everything would just turn on – everything just needed to stop. He had to get to him.

"Tetsuya!"

He fell. He had fallen hard. How did this suddenly happen – he was not a physical person. Nothing did he know about the male – a male, even more. A stranger, a boy – it was all irrational, everything. He wasn't himself. He didn't know who he was – but he knew what he wasn't.

"_Tetsuya_!"

His hand grabbed onto Kuroko's arm tightly. "Tetsuya –" he said desperately.

"Leave me _alone_," he seethed. The venom in his voice drained almost all the strength in Akashi. "No," he whispered. "Why did you leave? Why?"

"Let go." And for the first time, Akashi felt rejection. There is a difference – in seeing in faces. In seeing the crumpling of a man, their pride, their hopes, gone before your eyes. It isn't the same, it doesn't help you understand what it means, even if you see it a hundred times, not even if you cause it.

It hurt more than Akashi wanted to admit. It didn't feel like daggers. It felt like unraveling, until you were naked.

Akashi's fingers loosened.

"Is something the matter?" The cold voice was directed towards him. The world returned in full form. Noise tore through his ear, frantic face of Kuroko, looking as if he was about to assault him. A man twice as large as himself glaring at him from above. He let go.

"No. Nothing." His mouth was dry as he said his last words. "Tetsuya… please talk to me next time we meet." There was nothing. Nothing but coldness in his eyes as Akashi walked away. As he sat on the shivering leather, as he went home.

He dropped his keys, kicked off his shoes, and collapsed on the bed. The silence was deafening and although her hadn't taken off a single piece of clothing, he still felt naked.

_One day you'll find someone you want to impress and you won't be able to. Not like this._

"Shut up," Akashi muttered. "Just shut up." He wrapped his arm over his eyes so there'd be darkness.

* * *

The weather was getting chillier. The boy knew that as he hurried into the diner, the haze of the bright yellow bulbs rising with the steam of sizzling fries and burgers on the grill. The familiar sound of the blender rose through the air and tinkling of badly handled cutlery clattered thunderously across the table. He stamped his feet a couple of times on the tattered welcome mat before advancing to the counter.

The familiar face of an elderly woman greeted him. As soon as he came into view, her eyes widened before breaking out into a beautiful smile. "My, my! I haven't seen you in a while! How have you been? You're so handsome now!"

He laughed and looked around the store quickly before turning back again. "Thank you, Anna. I'm sorry I've been away so long."

"Why have you been?" Anna's wrinkled brows twerked downwards in concern. "Are you alright? Nothing's wrong is it? With your family? School?"

It took all of his strength to shake his head and keep a hearty laugh. "No – nothing is wrong. They're all fine. Really." He opened his mouth to admit that he wasn't at school anymore, that he hadn't gone to college like he had planned. But the words wouldn't come, and he was not courageous enough to do it by faith. His mouth shut again stupidly. "You look wonderful, by the way. I see that Maji's done a bit of renovating."

"Ah, you've noticed! You have a keen eye there." She winked and pointed behind her with the end of her pen. "We've only redone the backsplash and gotten some new fryers. The booths are still as saggy and lackluster as you remember them."

"But it's still the same old Maji's," he replied, running a hand though his short fiery hair.

"I don't know why you love it so much; neither of you – why Kuroko comes here as often as he does is beyond me as well." The boy swallowed and managed to keep a cheerful face. "No, it's fine. I haven't spoken to him in a while. How – how is he?"

And he was so close to making it through that sentence. If only he had taken a bigger breath of air.

"He's fine. He came in just the other day, with another fellow – a red head with different colored eyes. I wonder if it's some fad with contacts or if it's real. Either way, it looked incredibly unique on him. He was extremely dignified. It surprised me, since Kuroko never brings anyone with him, except for Kagami-kun sometimes. And then we run out of food on those days," she finished darkly, recalling the memory.

"Is that so?" he asked.

"Say. Do you still see Kuroko anymore? I know that people grow apart, but you two always seemed so close." She smiled so that all the lines on her face bunched up, making her eyes only twinkle ever more. "Did you ever go to the same college like you planned?"

The boy smiled and shook his head. "No, we didn't. Regrettably, we had different plans for life, but we keep in touch every now and then."

"That's so sweet." Anna beamed. "I'm so glad sweetheart."

The boy once again managed a convincing smile.

Finally, the cashier tapped her pen to paper, asking in a more businesslike tone, "Now, what did you want to eat?"

"Ah...whatever you'd recommend. Maybe a Chef's special. And a vanilla shake please."

He smiled as a final thought occurred to him. "Make it Kuroko's size."


	13. Chapter 13

**This chapter is dedicated to **Clarit**. Because of her amazing words and spirit, she really cheered me up. Thank you for always reading, writing, and knowing somehow the right thing to say always. This is definitely for you! ^_^**

**I hope you like this chapter – I don't know how, but it almost wrote itself. I think you will like it. I hope so. Please review!**

**Theme song for the chapter: For some reason, I think this is a really good song that really summarizes this. I'm not sure why, so I really recommend it! Youtube "Nightcore - Hero by AmNightcore". It needs to be that one.**

* * *

"So, what is he doing now?"

"He's texting again," Nebuya grunted, squinting at the screens. "And…he's smiling. He's definitely smiling." Reo craned his neck higher in order to get a better look. "This is extremely undignified," he murmured sadly. The security guard that they shoved onto a doughnut break couldn't have agreed more, if he was even here.

Because it was sad. In the tall skyscraper that housed the headquarters of the Akashi Corporation, in a giant security room that was dark enough and filled with enough giant screens and shiny buttons to make it look like the inside of the CIA, sat Nebuya and Reo spying on their boss, who was seeming to – in all appearances – be preoccupied with his phone.

"I'm concerned. He's been sitting there for fifteen minutes now without doing a single iota of work – and he should've left at five, but then got a call and locked himself in his office." Nebuya bit into the jerky that he had brought with him – a bag that contained a bulk of 500 strips, which was strapped handily onto the leather of his belt. The irony that both was made from a cow was somewhat lost on the bulky head of security.

"He looks fine. Even if he has been acting strangely." He sat up from the screen. "I don't think there's anything else we can check."

"But he's been distracted lately. And unless he's doing in communications with someone for business, I don't know who he could be talking to." Reo stared. "He's smiling a lot more than he used to."

"Maybe he met someone?" Nebuya's keen insight came at the strangest times, if it did at all.

"I checked his records from the accountant – about two months ago, he began spending extravagant amounts of money at that nightclub _Lights_ that held the umbrella meeting. Which went extraordinarily well, in any case. It seemed none of the sponsors had been able to get inside all this time." Reo made a snappy gesture at the guards who ran back inside to take their former defense positions.

"And that went on for about three weeks. And then nothing. If he was seeing someone, wouldn't he be spending more taking them out?" Reo pulled it up on his iPhone, showing it to Nebuya. "Only thing is he's spending more on groceries…" The page refreshed.

"And a pair of Broadway tickets. Reserved box." Reo deadpanned. "Sei-chan doesn't like plays."

"And he refused to take the last girl even to a play," Nebuya grunted.

"So, it really is someone!" The lanky man's eyes widened. The realization, even if it wasn't exactly a shock still felt like a blow to the advisor. After all, apart from Mayuzumi, he was his closest confidante and – he'd like to think so – friend. To think that even after seven weeks, Akashi wouldn't mention seeing someone, hurt a little.

A ding came up on his cell, followed by almost an instantaneous second ping on Nebuya's phone. They checked the messages.

_If you both are done spying on me, please get to work. Unless I am not paying you enough, then tell me in person._

There was no doubt who sent that.

Reo sighed. "I suppose the gig is up. Did you let something slip?"

Nebuya shook his head. "Nah."

They split ways and Reo took the elevator. He gave a small wave at the middle aged secretary – a new hire, after the one Reo had chosen was fired soon after Akashi mentioned the dismissal. In the end, she had forgotten, in all the multiple duties, to schedule an appointment with the head of marketing in Tokyo. Akashi had chosen the one to fill her space. No problems had occurred since then.

He rapped on the door. "Come in," the mogul called.

Reo slipped in. "Sei-chan, it's late. Shouldn't you be going home?"

"I'll go when I want." He nudged two curled fingers towards himself, indicating the advisor come closer. "So, you've finally figured it out?"

Reo replied dismally, "Well, the last transaction was the final straw. Congratulations on your relationship, I should say," he bowed at the end of the speech.

Akashi shrugged. "I just wanted to know how long it'd take you to figure it out. Next time, you know you can just ask." He finally looked Reo in the eye and smiled. It was, surprisingly, quite a friendly expression, with relaxed shoulders and elbows digging into the table. Reo wondered if the change in personality had anything to do with the mysterious new person in his boss's life.

"I didn't want to intrude on your personal life," Reo explained, not mentioning how that had happened more than enough times as each set-up date ended in failure – and sex.

"I suppose so. But even still." He rounded the table and sat on the edge casually. "I don't mind. Or Nebuya either," he added.

"Well, that's good," Reo said. "I'll remind you of that next time." Akashi nodded. "Of course, of course."

He waited for a few moments patiently before asking. "So? Who is she? That's finally caught your eye?"

"Ah…he." The strain that suddenly seized the room was palpable.

"He?" Reo asked, surprised. "Did I hear that right?"

Akashi nodded as he sipped his coffee. "Mm. That's right. I met him at _Lights_, on the umbrella conference day."

Reo had nothing against the male to male conundrum. The thing that made the simple words coming out of the mogul's mouth so shocking wasn't its content but the lack of history behind them. Never once, did Akashi seem to take any interest in men – his previous dates, from the time that he had met Akashi four years ago when he came with his father into the office – and he, still, was just a lowly intern to the time the red head inherited the company and billions from his deceased predecessor, he had always looked at women, dated them, and in a predictable way, Reo had expected Akashi to produce an heir in the normal way.

"At the nightclub…is he … a dancer?" That explained all the visits to the establishment, although he could hardly imagine a stripper gaining Akashi's attention.

He shook his head. "No, he's the general manager. Kuroko Tetsuya. And he's my age, by the way," Akashi added as he saw the look in Reo's eye. "Younger as well."

"He's that young and he runs the place? Who's the owner?" Reo asked.

"It's co-owned, actually – the main speaker is a man named Himuro Tatsuya. Young guy. He inherited it from his godmother, who owned a chain of them – Alexandra Garcia," Akashi said.

Reo smiled slightly. "You…seem happy, Sei-chan. If that's the case…I'm very glad as well. You deserve someone you can talk to."

Akashi laughed. He grabbed a ball from his table, a small bronze one, shaped into what looked like twigs intertwined with each other. "Well, he's pretty tight-lipped. It's strange being in an actual relationship. It doesn't feel difficult … but I'm not sure how the opening up part of the relationship goes. He doesn't share too much of himself … And I'm doing the same thing. We promised we'd take it slow."

He leaned back onto the couch. "I'm not sure I do feel comfortable when he's so private. It's like … he doesn't trust me or something."

"Well, if you think about it," Reo said pensively, now in full motherly mode. He was cautious as he sat down. Never had he actually been asked advice from Akashi – not about his personal life. He didn't want to lose the trust that he had seemed to gain in whatever way. "It's been…a month?"

"Five weeks."

The blackette shrugged. "That's not a very long time. You need more than five weeks to get to know each other. Just let it take a natural course."

He received an appreciative glance from Akashi. When he finally left the office, Reo put a hand up to his heart and rubbed. Something was definitely wrong with him. Did his heart really skip a beat when Akashi smiled at him? He shook his head quickly to forget the thought. No time, no time. He had work to do.

* * *

Kuroko took deep breaths. He adjusted his tie once more and then groaned. It didn't fit – none of it was right. He looked ridiculous. Akashi was going to laugh at him. He was going to look at him like a kid. He adjusted the cuffs of his blazer once more.

It was because the suit was old – for once, grudgingly, Kuroko was grateful that he hadn't grown almost an inch since he was sixteen – the suit still fit at least, even if was so long ago.

He grabbed a sky blue tie, striped diagonally with silver and retied it once more. It looked even worse. It was because his mom used to be the one that tied it for him – how women knew more about tying men's ties than men did was still a mystery to him.

The bell rang as he adjusted his bangs again. "Shoot –" Kuroko ran into the foyer to grab his keys and phone. Nigou heard the buzz and barked happily, scampering after his master curiously.

"Nigou, when I'm gone behave yourself. Don't do anything bad, eat your food and drink your water, understand? Be a good boy." The little pup woofed again and panted, waiting for a rub of the head, which the bluenette gave willingly.

Kuroko pulled on his jacket and bounded out the door, clanging down the metal stairwell and to the gate where Akashi was waiting. As always, the mogul was beautiful and classy in the streaks of sunset sky. Kuroko's heart skipped a beat as he watched his lover wave at him.

Kuroko unlocked the gate. "Evening," he said. He couldn't help but smile anxiously at the sight before him. His heart wouldn't stop fluttering. Damn it, he wasn't a girl. What was wrong with him?

Akashi grinned. "You look very nice." Kuroko laughed slightly, eyes flitting for any safe object but the one in front of him. He felt naked before Akashi's heterochromatic eyes. They really did glow like jewel in fire. Damn it, not again. Stupid metaphors.

The red head chuckled, pulling Kuroko out of his stupor. "Your tie," he teased, reaching up for the silk that looked like crumpled tissue.

"Ah…I – was never good at that," Kuroko mumbled. Akashi shrugged. "It's not a problem. Luckily, you have an expert at your disposal." Deftly, his hands began to weave the fabric around, slowing to show Kuroko each loop. "And you want to go into the larger loop- not the small one," he indicated on the second wrap-around. "And you're done." He slipped the knot up tight, swift whishing sound letting the smaller male know it was done.

"Perfect." Kuroko began playing with the knot to look less pathetic.

"Thank you," he muttered.

They made it to the theatre in plenty of time. Kuroko couldn't help but marvel at the gigantic atrium as they were bowed in by the doorman. The foyer's length stretched out like a ballroom, large enough for a football field to fit neatly on the polished marble floor. Hundreds of men and women, dressed in suits and their evening wear passed them by, a couple looking and pointing their way – in recognition of Akashi, who was a somewhat well-known face to the more corporate side of Japan.

Little kids in cute ballgown dresses scurried by them, along with older mothers and fathers trying to catch them without yelling, and interrupting the atmosphere.

Kuroko looked up. Seven balconies stacked upon each other like blocks and cameras flashed on each level as guests shuffled by each other to go inside the auditorium.

"Wow…" he said breathily.

Akashi nudged him. "Let's go. We're on the third floor."

They took their playbills which interested Kuroko extremely until Akashi led them to their seats. He thought they were going to be something normal – and extravagant, maybe the front row of some perfect view.

Instead, he was led past a heavy curtain to what looked almost like a VIP room – theatre style. A bar was lit with tiny lights built into the wood along with comfy armchairs. Further up was their box, a curved little space sticking out of the wall and perched so close to the stage that Kuroko could swear he could see the eyebrows furrow of the musicians that warmed up below them.

"This is…" Akashi watched Kuroko as he explored the room and view. He hovered beside him on the balcony.

"Do you like it?" he asked. Kuroko turned to him, wonder in his blue eyes. "It's amazing."

"Good." With great care, he reached over, closing the space between them and kissed the bluenette gently.

Heat flooded into Kuroko's face as the embrace wrapped around him. Unbidden, his hand rose to cup Akashi's face. The kiss was slow and sweet, building ever so carefully from both parties. Kuroko's lips parted slightly in a shallow breath and tenderly, Akashi's tongue slipped into taste the velvety texture of the bluenette's cavern.

Their tongues tussled playfully, both darting and evading in time. Akashi reached further, deepening the kiss even more. Their bodies pressed closer together. His hand slipped underneath Kuroko's blazer, feeling over the cotton dress shirt lightly. In return, the smaller boy tightened his grip around Akashi's waist.

Kuroko broke off first, his mind hazy. He swallowed. "Ah…" he chuckled nervously. His cheeks grew red.

Akashi kissed him again, chastely this time around. "Mm." He pulled away a little, but both of them still holding the other firmly.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked.

Kuroko's head went blank. He picked the first thing that came to his mind. "Club soda?"

And he froze. Crap. What did he just ask for? Did he just ask for carbonated water? His mortified expression was hidden by his face as Akashi laughed out loud. "If you'd like," he said amusedly.

"Ah…a – a martini, one olive is fine, please," Kuroko pressed his face into his hand.

After Akashi got up, he spun around, giving the boy a hug from behind. He deposited a peck on the cheek. "Don't worry, club soda is absolutely adorable. Very teen-like."

"Oh, shut up," Kuroko snapped, his irritation brimming to the surface. "Go ahead, with you and your hard liquor – don't you drink anything normal?"

"Red wine?" Akashi called out from the kitchen.

"Har har. You're very smooth, aren't you," Kuroko replied icily. He slouched on the counter bar. "Always perfect for every occasion."

Akashi rocked the shaker briskly before pouring two glasses of the vermouth. He added the olives generously and handed one to Kuroko. "Not always," he said, looking him in the eye. The heat began to rise to his face once more.

When the lights dimmed, both of them settled down. It was a strange sensation, to listen to the orchestra play and himself just above them like they were flying. People began to talk and the need to not do anything, no work, no speaking, in the darkness of a room was a novel sensation. A good one – but new.

About ten minutes in, when he got used to the view, Kuroko began to realize something else that was now creeping on him. It hadn't been evident before, nor had it been immediate. The sensation was slow, like the creeping of earth as it shifts or even the snake at rest. You never notice it until it's suddenly upon you.

But once you realized it, it was impossible to ignore. Akashi shifted in his seat. He was on Kuroko's immediate left, one hand on his drink and the other on the sill of their balcony. It was only a few inches from Kuroko's own empty hand, his drink done long ago.

And the crackling intensity of electricity between him and the red head was now all he could think about.

Kuroko's heart began to beat faster. His body froze up immediately and the words the woman was yelling aloud now fell on muted ears. His breathing turned heavy and he swallowed, puffing out his chest to take shallower breaths. After a couple of attempts, his body began to scream for more air, causing him to breath out suddenly large to make up for the dizzying sensation in his brain.

His eyes flickered to Akashi. The mogul stared down at the play.

Oh damn. Damn, damn, damn.

Be cool. This wasn't the first time he'd been on a date – so he had to get it together. Kuroko permitted himself to shut his eyes for a moment and then shifted in his chair. Slouching his shoulders, he leaned over the balcony a little more for a better view.

Beside him, Akashi moved as well to stretch his shoulders. He settled back into his seat. They continued to watch the play.

30 minutes into the play.

Kuroko knew that it was his fault. His stomach was sinking like the a ball of lead in acid but he didn't know what to do about it.

Even though it's easy to act like there is no attraction, that things are casual – the obvious cannot be denied. The sexual tension in the room is like a naked monkey in a serious conversation. There is no way to ignore it, but you have to because it's not important, nor can you get rid of it. It's awkward and distracting as hell, but inappropriate to deal with.

It's embarrassing and all you can think about because you just want to grab it by the tail and yank it by the collar of his perfectly pressed shirt and dig your fingers into that damnably soft scarlet hair of his – no – that was wrong. That wasn't the right metaphor. Kuroko bit his tongue until it bled.

Dark rooms are not good for slow relationships. It makes one wait – waiting for the other to make the first move, because you're too scared to talk about the giant gap between you, the connection of sensual current that makes you forget what on earth the play is even about.

And worse, when the actors below you begin to kiss, unconsciously, you begin to get embarrassed, like you should compete with them. But no – they're acting. Now you're just being stupid.

Ten minutes ago, Akashi shifted in his seat, a gesture not lost on the bluenette whose only source of entertainment was trying to observe his date without him noticing. The red head's hand moved closer to Kuroko's, just a few centimeters more. It was a signal, a subtle one, and Kuroko knew that it was his choice to respond or not. He was the one that was taking this slow – he had to be the one to initiate. It was only fair to everyone involved, so there were no complications.

He knew that. And the thing is that, he wanted to do it. It wouldn't be so hard to just take the hand. Akashi's warm fingers would curl around his and then they'd look at each other in an embarrassed fashion.

It's not like it meant they'd be having sex on the theatre carpet – which Kuroko was sure could not be very sanitary to do anyway. But it'd be a little step forward, one that would be good since this was ending their sixth week going out. And Akashi, in that time, has been perfect. Absolutely perfect.

His stomach twisted more violently than before.

His clammy hand twitched. Move. Just a little bit. Kuroko leaned forward, looking as if he was just shifting in his seat. He glanced at Akashi. The male continued to watch the play – and then text a short message before putting it away.

Well, that wasn't bad. He was after all, a CEO of an international company. If one thinks about it, likely Akashi is already ignoring a dozen different notices that were ringing on his phone during this one date. Kuroko's guilt sank even more. But no, focus.

He didn't have the strength to swallow as his hand inched forward towards Akashi's. The irregular terror that was filling him didn't subside as he moved and suddenly, the arm lurched to a stop, still almost a full foot from his date's body.

Stupid – stupid.

_Just do it. DO IT!_

He screamed it to himself. The reasoning came easily – all the things that this meant – the positives and absolutely no negatives to what could result if Kuroko only had the guts to initiate. But he couldn't. The pressure piled up even more inside him.

In this way, another twenty minutes passed.

Fuck it. Fuck himself, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He was furious. _Why – why can't you do one thing, one thing for me? For him – for Pete's sake, he won't wait forever, do you know that?_

Shut up. Just shut up.

Akashi leaned over to him. "Do you want another?" He gestured to the empty martini glass. Kuroko shook his head and gave a brief smile. "I'm fine, thanks."

The taller man nodded and went back to the kitchen. Kuroko turned to the stage, where two men seemed to be cooking up some kind of devious plan together, and wallowed more in despair.

The momentary relief of Akashi gone was washed away in his return a couple minutes later. Kuroko swallowed. He stood up.

"Restroom," he murmured quietly to Akashi before leaving the booth, not looking back to see if Akashi had believed him or not. He had to get away – away from the tension, the expectations.

He didn't want to disappoint Akashi. The golden plaques and empty halls sped past him as he began to run. Why did he have to disappoint him? Why couldn't he do anything right for once?

The bathroom door slammed open and he rushed inside, locking himself in the first stall he saw. The desperate gasps escaped him finally like a dam. Blood inside his head pounded like a migraine. He slid down the dirty door onto the floor.

Why? Why was he like this – why was he still like this? The hiccups erupted from his throat without his consent, sounding like strange popping sounds, strangely ringing in the empty space. He pressed his hand to his face to find it wet.

"Damn it," he whispered, wiping the salt away before they could threaten a fall down his suit.

He was being stupid. There was nothing to cry about – not to mention, if he didn't get it together fast, Akashi would wonder where he was. As the closest bathroom to them, he'd be found instantly.

"Breathe, just breathe. It's just Akashi-kun. It's not a big deal. It's just a date. You've been on one of these before, remember?" His body shook as a memory flashed across his eyes – orange hair and smiles. He wrapped his arms around himself in a huddle. His limbs felt cold and drained now.

"You can't say here, Kuroko – get up. Get up and get out here. Just don't do anything. Don't make a move, then. Just don't sit here like a coward, okay?" he muttered.

Suddenly, the door opened. Kuroko stumbled to his feet as a murmurings filled the halls. Doors opened and shut, including his own before Kuroko made a quick call that it was in use.

It was intermission. Did he already spend that long here? How long? Ten minutes? Fifteen? He had to get out of there.

Kuroko wiped his eyes one more time. He could do this. No big deal. Just a date. He'd been on one of those before … then again, it was better not to think about that.

He opened the door and washed his hands. As the bluenette exited, a flash of red caught his vision.

The mogul waved at him, in the long line. He looked worried. "Tetsuya – you feeling okay? You were in there a while," Akashi said anxiously. Kuroko smiled. "Yeah – sorry, my stomach didn't feel too good, but it's much better now."

"Ah. Well, alright." The line moved up quickly, as all male restroom lines did. Akashi gestured to the door. "I'll meet you back inside the box. We're Box 5, remember."

"Got it." Kuroko nodded and walked off.

Akashi walked into the bathroom. No matter what Kuroko said, he couldn't hide it. The clumping of his eyelashes, the red around his pupils. He texted to Reo about some appointments tomorrow halfheartedly, continuing to analyze the picture in his mind of his date.

Kuroko had been crying, then lied about it after. A bad phone call during his break, perhaps?

No, the bluenette had been uncomfortable to begin with, he reminded himself. All throughout the play, his body had been tense and unnatural. And after downing the martini within the first five minutes of the show, there'd not been a need for any further beverage.

But he didn't say anything to Kuroko. He didn't want to push him – and a stark memory to Reo's words just last week was still strong in his mind. Akashi entered the box with a smile and another drink for them both. Kuroko nursed that martini with two hands almost the rest of the show, even after it had gone warm.

Akashi said absolutely nothing about it.

* * *

"Um, excuse me, it's a mess in the women's restroom." A tall woman, dressed in a gold sparkly mini skirt and nude top sniped rudely at the man. "It's disgusting in there – can't you even afford a janitor in this place?"

The man's eyes widened. On a regular night, he was just an employee – a dorky and unkempt lawyer working sixty hours a week, with a marriage life that was falling apart, a divorce, and a boss that treated him like crap. But he was here – in Lights, where all of reality just fades to dust. And also, he had just finished his third beer.

His face contorted angrily, striding towards the woman and her little girl cluster huddling behind her. "I'm not _part_ of the staff here, sweetie, but maybe you should take a better look around before you start insulting people," he snarled.

She recoiled and craned her head away from his stinky breath. "Well –maybe you should try dressing a bit more. Obviously you don't really fit into this kind of place," she finished quickly.

"What did you say to me? What did you say –" He advanced again as the women stumbled over each other to escape. A light hand rested on the man's shoulder.

"Excuse me sir, I'm sorry for the insults, please forgive me. I am the one they are searching for so please go back, and enjoy the rest of your night." Kuroko bowed respectfully towards the man. "And have a scotch – on me. Tell the bartender that Kuroko sent you up. On the house."

The man pulled hard on his crumpled dress shirt, still looking angrily at the women. "They're the ones that began the insults. I didn't want to make any trouble," he muttered, sinking back into the quiet Japanese shell most natural to him. It was mostly the alcohol that changed people into what they really weren't. Kuroko knew that more than anyone considering his job.

"Of course, sir. Please enjoy your night." He gestured to the bar to which the guest once more ambled to.

Kuroko then addressed the band of ladies still looking quite scared. "I'm so sorry for that rude customer – I'm having him dealt with, I promise."

"He should be locked up – having anger problems like he does. This place really needs more security!" One of the women nodded vigorously. The other shyer females just watched Kuroko curiously. The bluenette nodded once more. "We will work on that. Now, you said something about the bathroom?"

"Yes – it's a mess. Clogged and disgusting, things on the floor everywhere." The tallest woman, who was also the one that began the complaints, gave Kuroko a confused look. "… Do you work here?" She sounded rather shocked.

Kuroko nodded. "I do. And as part of the staff, I will make sure that is cleaned the next time you enter."

"Oh – well. I didn't know…well, it's such respectable employees they have." The women giggled as their companion began to stumble over herself. "… You have a very nice club," she ended ungracefully.

"Thank you," Kuroko replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to deal with the restroom."

"Oh, of course!"

There were three sets of bathrooms in the club available for regular guests. Guessing by how close they were to the dance floor, Kuroko guessed that it was the closest and busiest one, which was only a few feet from the bar. He knocked and gave a little peek inside.

Surprisingly, he was greeted with a sparkling sight. A mild perfume lingered in the air along with fresh orchids on either side of the long counter. The cleaning crew must have come through here very recently. Kuroko frowned. Likely, it meant the job was already dealt with. But just to be sure, he'll check the other ones anyway.

The second bathroom, a bit further away winded through two corridors near the private halls where the strippers brought their charges for a lap dance or maybe a bit of extra attention. He ignored the muted thumps past the first two steel traps. After a swift knock, he peeked inside.

A woman looked up from her makeup and stared at him. It took her a moment to figure out whether the beautiful person was indeed a male like she thought or possibly a very uniquely elegant female. Kuroko nodded. "Ah, excuse me." He shut the door lightly.

The lady turned back to the mirror, smiling in a silly way. There was something about him – even if it was a man in a toilet – that was very calming. Old fashioned and respectable, something you didn't see in modern Japan anymore. What a mystery – she hadn't noticed anyone like that in the building the entire night. If only she had asked for a name.

Kuroko sighed. So, not the main two bathrooms. More winding halls came around as he went into the VIP room wing of the club. Almost no one came into this part of the place unless they were rich, lost, or employees. Being lost usually implied also being drunk.

It was a very quiet area and Kuroko liked it more than any other in the club, mostly because of all the beige velvet and crystal as well as the lack of music. It was also brightly lit. Even if the place was called Lights, the amount of actual light bulbs they used to clearly light places was tiny. All three rooms were booked tonight, but still little sound escaped the sound resistant rooms.

He cracked the door to the almost unvisited restroom. His heart plummeted at the sight.

"Shoot," he muttered.

The place was a mess. Toilet paper trails littered the floor and ripped towel shreds all over the wet sink. He peeked into the stalls. One of them was clogged with feces until almost overflowing. The other was cleaner – just urine dripped all over the bowl. Also not flushed.

Who in their mind would leave this restroom like this? Since it was almost never used, the janitors checked up on it less, so it could've been hours since this happened. Kuroko held his breath and walked back out. He unlocked the cupboard, slipping on gloves and grabbing the plunger and mop. A huge case of disinfectant and cleaner couldn't hurt either.

Good thing it was the women's restroom – it would probably be a few more hours until someone else came in.

Maybe it was those women who caused the mess. But that didn't seem like something they'd do. Kuroko brushed it off. It didn't matter who it was.

The bluenette got to cleaning. After pulling out the giant balls of toilet paper from the bowls and trashing them, a sickening squelch of poop that sounded like vomit going the wrong way down the pipe, and a hard scrub of each toilet, the boy let out a breath of satisfaction.

Good. Everything looked perfect. Now, he just had to wipe the counter and mop – and a little sweep of the floor would finish it. He smiled. Even if it was inconvenient, there was a kind of pride in finishing a hard task.

Behind him, there was a clack as the door swung open. He turned around. "I'm sorry ma'am, we're almost finished clean –" His voice broke off as his eyes met with the forms of Izuki, Kiyoshi, and Koganei, all of them looking pleasantly friendly.

"Ah…Kuroko-san, sorry. We must have entered the wrong bathroom." Kiyoshi bowed slightly, an embarrassed look on his face. Kuroko took off his gloves quickly, dropping them into the trash. He began washing his hands. "It's fine. I'm cleaning, so if you wouldn't mind?"

"Of course, of course." Kiyoshi gestured. "Come on, Koganei – let's get going."

The smallest of the blackettes marched into the room curiously. "Wow. Someone really destroyed this place, didn't they?" He made a little click with his teeth. "And you had to clean the whole thing up? Here, can we help?"

The lump in Kuroko's throat spread to his heart, causing it to beat painfully faster. "It's fine, you don't need to. Policy says we can't have non-employees working, even for a few minutes."

"Well, obviously policy's never been a problem to you all these years, anyway?" Koganei said happily, grabbing the mop. Kuroko's body tensed visibly. His eyes flickered to the door. It wasn't lost on him that Izuki and Kiyoshi both blocked the exit.

Koganei kept yammering on. "But don't worry, we'd never tell a soul. If it was our boss, he'd fire us for mentioning something like that, no matter what. He's loyal, you know? Gives second chances."

Kuroko's hands stopped in his spastic attempt to wipe the counter. "Your boss is free to do whatever he likes. It's not my business," he said quietly.

Koganei dunked the mop into the water, making sure to wring it dry so it didn't drip over the floor. "Oh, of course it isn't your business. That was what you decided, wasn't it? And you seem to be keeping that beautifully – being in the same business as him, working a few blocks from him – flaunting your new boyfriend around him – you sure like scarlet heads, don't you?" He laughed and shook his head, one hand on his waist, as if marveling the irony of the world.

"First Shige-kun, then Kagami-san – is this billionaire Akashi Seijuuro your new boy toy? He's such a catch. But then again, you were always able to catch _anything _you want, aren't I right?"

Kuroko turned back towards Kiyoshi and Izuki. Both of them were looking down, as if they were uncomfortable with the scene. Yet, neither did anything about it. Kuroko swallowed and replied in his most impassive tone.

"I'm not going to talk about this with you. It's none of your business. I don't want to fight with your boss or you, so leave before I call security –" He lost his breath as Koganei's fingers closed over his windpipe, slamming Kuroko onto the tile wall. Pain burst throughout his body. His eyes danced in black and blue spots that crinkled and disintegrated across his vision.

Kiyoshi ran forward finally. "Koganei, that's enough! You can't hurt him –" He pulled Koganei away tightly once more and Kuroko gasped.

The silly face had grown malicious in mere moments. His tiny pupils dilated three times its size to overwhelm most of the brown crazily. A cruel leer wrapped darkly over the scowl of his chin. "Izuki – don't tell me that you don't agree with me –Kiyoshi, you too – get off me! Don't stop me if you're not willing to do it yourself!" Kiyoshi's grip loosened but still, he didn't let go of Koganei.

The eagle eye said nothing. When he looked at Kuroko, his gaze was dark, devoid of any emotion. "I'll be right outside," he said quietly.

"I haven't done anything to your boss, so just leave me alone!" Kuroko hissed. His arms tingled with the adrenaline pumping in his body. "I have nothing against him – we haven't even talked in years!"

"It must be nice, having a cushy job where everyone adores you. Oh, poor, pitiful Kuroko Tetsuya, the apple of everyone's eye! You must think you're such a victim, on your high horse! Thinking that Shige has nothing to do with you – well, Shige deserved better than you! But he's too afraid of coming to say it himself! Because of you! The perfect and spoiled master of Lights!"

Kuroko grabbed the walkie talkie on his waist. He pressed the call button. "Tak –"

Koganei tore from Kiyoshi's grasp. "You don't get to call another one of your lackies for help!" He grabbed the communicator, hurled it on the floor, and yanked Kuroko's wrist towards him. The crack of the broken device echoed across the tiles. At the same time, his right hand rose to punch the boy's gut.

Kuroko was faster though. His locked wrist spun, knocking it hard onto Koganei's bone. In a flurry, the boy kicked, smashing into the blackette's groin, and shoved him across the room where there was a thud. Koganei whimpered, eyes wide in shock at the hit. Kuroko ran for the exit.

Koganei was like a bullet from a gun – faster than anything Kuroko had ever seen or even Kiyoshi could pick up. The blackette grabbed the mop and spun it, smacking it into Kuroko's shoulder. The following crack was the second horrible sound to resonate in the bathroom.

Koganei grabbed the dirtied gloves from the bin. Straddling the knocked over bluenette, stuffed the toxic plastic into Kuroko's mouth. Kuroko wanted to gag, the smell of ammonia burning his nostrils, but out of fear of drinking the urine, he suppressed it. Koganei's voice thickened with long nurtured hatred.

"Eat shit like the shit you are. You deserted him. You didn't give him a chance and left him to rot. And now you want to flaunt your new connections? Well, I don't care who it is. Like everyone else in your life, they just want to fuck you anyway –"

Kiyoshi dragged Koganei off again frantically now, even yelling at Izuki for help. Koganei's fingers clawed tightly to Kuroko, digging into his skin like a demon. "But Shige won't ever come here to say all that! Aida might want you to join us, but I could care less." He laughed maniacally, his eyes glowing.

Izuki's voice burst through the room. "They're coming! Kiyoshi – Takao and the others are _coming_!"

Kiyoshi ripped Koganei off Kuroko with a final yank, and the pain blossomed fully over the bluenette's neck. He sputtered – spitting out the gloves and ran to the sink, gasping and spitting to rinse his mouth. He felt like vomiting, over and over again.

The door slammed open. "You BASTARDS!" Aomine roared. His form whipped around to ram both Kiyoshi and Koganei into the wall. It broke the paper dispenser.

Kuroko sputtered. "N-no, Aomine-kun, d-don't." A violent coughing bout wracked his chest. His mouth tasted bitter, like crap and disinfectant.

Takao and another guard ran in. Takao shoved Izuki onto the wall as well, albeit gentler than Aomine did. "You – go get more guards. Call the police."

"No!" Kuroko said again, more forcefully, speaking more to Aomine than Takao, the former's gaze looking rabid enough to kill. "Don't fight – we don't want a scene. We can't have this against us. Just – let them go."

The guard still ran out for backup.

Aomine looked at Kuroko like he was crazy. "They just attacked you! They've been harassing you for years – they scarred your neck!" Kuroko brought a hand to the pulsing wound on his collar. He lifted up his hand to see a violent shade of red on his fingers.

He looked at the mirror. "It's not that bad – no, it's not that deep." The tissue around the three grooves had been filleted by Koganei's demonic nails, but the wound itself was very shallow. "We'll ban them from the club – we have the tapes. I don't want a scene. It will be bad for the club."

Takao took over before Aomine could rebut angrily again. His tone was calm. "Kuroko-kun, we need to call the police. This was an aggravated assault. You shouldn't have to deal with it anymore. And it's not even their first time. Besides – this isn't some small time nightclub. Fights happen all the time – people expect it. People _want_ it. Let the police deal with it."

Kuroko's stomach still churned. "…Okay. Fine. Bring them into the office then…away from the guests."

Thumps echoed down the hall, producing three more guards, Kotaro, and Kise.

"What the…" Kotaro murmured. His eyes skimmed over the three on the door, the injured Kuroko, and the walkie-talkie shattered on the floor.

"Alright. Into the office, I've already called the police. Kuroko, you need to get checked out." For the first time in years, his stupid grin or psychotic ideas weren't plastered on the male's face. Kuroko sorely wished that they were.

"Yeah, I –" And then Kuroko couldn't hold it anymore. He ran to the toilet and retched. All of the day's contents disappearing in a couple of minutes. Koganei couldn't help but smile as he listened.

* * *

"Tetsuya – what happened?" Akashi eyes widened as he opened the door wider. Kuroko stepped into the apartment with a small shake of his head, as if to brush off the question. Akashi traced his fingers along the taped scratches of Kuroko's collar, just beginning to heal. There were small dark blushes along the whole of Kuroko's neck – fingertip bruises – light as they were. By the way Kuroko held himself, it was obvious he was favoring his left side. Akashi brushed up his t-shirt. There was a thin cast.

"Were you attacked?" Akashi asked frantically.

Kuroko winced as Akashi felt the bruises. "Ah – it's nothing. Some of the people from Shades came to the club and we got into a fight. Don't worry – it doesn't hurt that much."

"Is your arm broken?" his eyes growing wide. Now he began searching the rest of Kuroko's body. The bluenette reddened a little as he did.

"No, it's just a small fracture. It's not a big deal," Kuroko tried to reassure him.

"Not a big deal? Tetsuya – when did this happen? Last night?" Kuroko nodded. "About midnight. It'll heal – the doctor said a couple of weeks at most, it's a really small break, Akashi-kun."

The mogul couldn't believe the nonchalance his lover was taking this with. Did it not concern him that he was attacked? Why was he being so ambivalent about this – was getting attacked a usual thing to happen at this club?

"Where were the others? Security? Did you call the police afterwards?"

"They found me when I was cleaning the bathroom. We called the police – they were arrested and banned from the club, Akashi-kun."

"In jail?" Akashi pressed.

Kuroko shook his head slowly. "No, Aida-san paid the bail for them. But they were charged for the attacks and she said that it wouldn't happen again. After, Kise-kun and Aomine-kun walked me home. I'm safe, Akashi-kun. Please don't worry."

"Worry – Tetsuya, you were attacked in your own club! Doesn't that concern you? Why did they attack you?" His voice was louder than he intended, but he couldn't help it. How could Kuroko not see the magnitude of what happened? Akashi's eyes pierced the bluenette, trying to find something that would hint to him fear or maybe trauma. But all in front of him was blankness, a face of cool logic. For the first time in a while, Akashi hated reason.

"They were angry…apparently sales had been going down this quarter. They blamed it on _Lights_, although that isn't really the case, since we have different clients…" Kuroko shrugged a confused nod, eyes trained on Akashi's shirt.

Now more sure that Kuroko wasn't injured anywhere else than the faint bruises and the scars, Akashi calmed just slightly. He escorted the boy to the couch and began to boil a pot of tea.

"They wouldn't just attack you for that, though. Hasn't their business been doing badly for a while now? It would have to be something else – some kind of trigger. Are you sure that it wasn't anything else?"

Kuroko shook his head. "I think it was in-the-moment… they wanted to just talk to me and let off some steam… it just went further. A train wreck."

A thousand questions and a thousand more arguments against what Kuroko was telling him cropped in his head, but the mogul didn't say anything else. He poured the tea with a steady hand, letting the water begin its steeping. Gently, the tray was set on the table.

"Alright then. So ... my final question – why didn't you call me?" He said it quietly, controlled.

Kuroko blinked. "I did think of it… but I know you had an early morning today. And we were going to meet up anyway, so this seemed like face to face news –"

Akashi whispered, "Damn it, Tetsuya – you got attacked! And you fractured your arm! This is something I'd want to know about! Wouldn't you want me to tell you if I got ambushed in some alleyway at midnight?" He stared at the boy painfully, eyes crinkled at the edges.

Kuroko's chest plummeted once more. He nodded wordlessly.

"Then you have to tell me! I don't care if I have an early morning – I want to know when you're in trouble the moment you are!"

Kuroko tried defend himself. "I…didn't want to disturb you," he said. His words faded off at the end without conviction. His face contorted violently. It looked like he was about to cry. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He raised his arm to his face, looking away from Akashi. "I'm sorry." His chest shuddered timorously in sobs held back.

And now it was Akashi's turn to feel terrible. "Tetsuya… I'm sorry – I'm sorry, here, I'm not mad." Gingerly, he slid his hand over Kuroko's back, pulling the small boy onto his shoulder. "I'm sorry. We won't talk about it anymore, I promise. You're okay. I'm just happy you're okay."

Kuroko's fingers curled around Akashi's shirt tightly. He tried to breathe deep, but the shaking wracked his body and only shallow gasps came out. "S-sorry, Akashi-kun. Really, please don't be mad," he whispered.

Akashi rubbed up and down the bluenette's back, his lips tracing the faint blue prints along Kuroko's neck with light kisses. "It's okay. I'm here. Don't worry."

And they stayed that way for a while until Kuroko could finally give Akashi a sad smile, shining of thanks and unshed tears. Out of all the things he'd seen or heard that day, that sight broke his heart most of all.

* * *

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